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X. 


THE STORY OF 


»*•' ■•'^-. ii’? 


BY 


G. MANYILIH^I 
FENN - 


ANTONY ^GMABE 

MAR 23 i888 / “ The Bag of Diamonk,^ 

'•- ^ •* Okt» M»ir»’c A/f 


AUTHOR OF 



One Maid’s Mischief.' 4sj 




OWf^ • W- l^ELb (OMPANY-'^^^^ 

war 16 VESEY STREET 





99 


“The Dia ne. 

Particular attention is invited to 
our new French Corset, ‘‘ The Diane,” 
ranging: in price from $1.50 to $5.50 
each. Our customers are cordially 
invited to examine these most excel- 
lent Paris-made Corsets, which com- 
bine new features in style and shaj)e, 
and are absolutely controlled by us 
for the United States. 

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Broadway and 11th Street. 


STUDIES IN ENGLISH SPELLING 


FIRST LESSON. 

A wealthy young man had a yacht, 
Disfigured with many a spacht, 
3APOLIO he tried, 

Which, as soon as applied, 
Immediately took out the lacht! 

SECOND LESSON. 

Our girl o’er the housework would sigh. 
Till SAPOLIO I urged her to trigh, 

Now she changes her tune, 

For she’s done work at nune, 

Which accounts for the light in her eigh ! 

THIRD LESSON. 

There’s many a domestic embroglio — 

To describe which would need quite a 
foglio, 

Might oft be prevented 
If the housewife consented 
To clean out the house with S APOGLIO! 


FOURTH LESSOI^. 

Maria’s poor fingers would ache, ' 

When the housework in hand she would 
tache. 

But her pains were allayed, 

When SAPOLIO’S aid. 

Her labor quite easy did mache! 

FIFTH LESSON. 

We have heard of some marvelous soaps 
Whose worth has exceeded our hoaps. 
But it must be confest. 

That SAPOLIO’S the best 
For with grease spots it easily coaps! 

SIXTH LESSON. 

The wife of a popular colonel 

Whose troubles with “helps” were etol- 
onel 

Now her leisure enjoys 
F or the ‘ ‘ new girl ” employs 
SAPOLIO in housework diolonel! 


LOVELL LIBRARY ADVERTLSER. 


1 


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Warerooms, 138 Fifth Ave., N. Y. 

MANUFACTURERS OF 


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2 


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LOVELL^S L1BHAR7. 


COMPLETE CATALOGUE BY AUTHORS. 

Lovell’s Libbart now contains the complete writings of most of the best standard 
authors, such as Dickens, Thackeray, Eliot, Carlyle, Ruskin, Scott, Lytton, Black, etc., 
etc. 

Each number is issued in neat 12mo form, and the type will be found larger, and the 
paper better, than in any other cheap series published. 

JOHIV W. liOVELIi COMPANY, 

P. 0. Box 1992. 14r and 16 Vesey Street, New York, 


BY AUTHOR OF “ ADDIE’S HUS- 


BAND ” 

1106 Jessie 20 

BY G. M. ADAM AND A. E. 
WETHERALD 

846 An Algonquin Maiden 20 

BY MAX ADELER 

295 Random Shots 20 

325 Elbow Room 20 

BY GUSTAVE AIMARD 

560 The Adventurers 10 

567 The Trail-Hunter 10 

673 Pearl of the Andes 10 

1011 Pirates of the Prairies 10 

,1021 The Trapper’s Daughter 10 

1032 The Tiger Slayer 10 

1045 Trappers of Arkansas 10 

1052 Border Rifles 10 

1063 The Freebooters 10 

1069 The White Scalper 10 

1071 Guide of the Desert 10 

1075 The Insurgent Chief 10 

1079 The Plying Horseman 10 

1081 Last of the Ancas 10 

1086 Missouri Outlaws 10 

1089 Prairie Flower 10 

1098 Indian Scout 10 

1101 Stronghand 10 

1103 Bee Hunters 10 

1107 Stoneheart 10 

1112 Queen of the Savannah 10 

1115 The Buccaneer Chief 10 

1118 The Smuggler Hero 10 

1121 The Rebel Chief 10 

BY MRS. ALDERDICE 

346 An Interesting Case 20 

BY MRS. ALEXANDER 

62 The Wooing O’t, 2 Parts, each 15 

99 The Admiral’s Ward 20 

209 The Executor 20 

349 Valerie’s Fate 10 

664 At Bay 10 

746 Beaton’s Bargain 20 

777 A Second Life 20 

799 Maid, Wife, or Widow 10 

840 By Woman’s Wit 20 

995 Which Shall it Be? ...20 

1044 Forging the Fetters 10 

1106 Mona’s Choice 20« 


BY HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN 


419 Fairy Tales 20 

BY F. ANSTEY 

30 Vice Vers£i; or, A Lesson to Fathers. . 20 

394 The Giant’s Robe 20 

453 Black Poodle, and Other Tales 20 

616 The Tinted Venus 16 

7,55 A Fallen Idol 20 

BY EDWIN ARNOLD 

436 The Light of Asia 20 

455 Pearls of the Faith 16 

472 Indian Song of Songs 10 

BY T. S. ARTHUR 

496 Woman’s Trials . . . .- 20 

507 The Tw'o Wives 16 

618 Married Life 15 

538 The Ways of Providence 15 

545 Home Scenes 15 

554 Stories for Parents 15 

563 Seed-Time and Harvest 16 

568 Woi'ds for the Wise 15 

574 Stories for Young Housekeepers 16 

579 Le.ssons in Life 16 

582 Off-Hand Sketches 15 

585 Tried and Tempted 16 

BY EDWARD AVELING 

1066 An American J ourney 30 

BY W. E. AYTOUN 

351 Lays of th.e Scottish Cavaliers 20 

BY ADAM BADEAU 

756 Conspiracy 26 

BY SIR SAMUEL BAKER 

206 Cast up by the Sea 20 

227 Rifle and Hound in Ceylon 20 

233 Eight Years’ Wandering in Ceylon . . 20 

BY C. W. BALESTIER 

381 A Fair Device 20 

405 Life of J. G. Blaine 20 

BY R. M. BALLANTYNE 

215 The Red Eric 20 

226 The F ire Brigade 20 

239 Erling the Bold ^ 

241 Deep Down 20 

BY S. BARING-GOULD 

875 Little Tu’penny 10 

1061 Red Spider 20 


1 


LOVELL^ S LIBRARY 


BY FRANK BARRETT 


1009 The Great Hesper 20 

BY GEORGE MIDDLETON BAYNE 

460 Galaski 20 

BY AUGUST BEBEL 

712 Woman 80 

BY MRS. E. BEDELL BENJAMIN 

748 Our Roman Palace 20 

1077 J im, the Parson 20 

BY A. BENRIMO 

470 Vic 15 

BY E. BERGER 

901 Charles Auchester 20 

BY W. BERGSOE 

77 Pillone 15 

BY E. BERTHET 

366 The Sergeant’s Legacy 20 

BY WALTER BESANT 

18 They Were Married 10 

108 Let Nothing Yon Dismay 10 

257 All in a Garden Fair 20 

268 When the Ship Comes Home 10 

384 Dorothy Forster 20 

699 Self or Bearer 10 

842 The World Went Very Well Then , .20 

847 The Holy Rose 10 

1002 To Call Her Mine 20 

1109 Katharine Regina 20 

BY BJORNSTJERNE BJORNSON 

3 The Happy Boy 10 

4 Arne 10 

BY WILLIAM BLACK 

40 An Adventure in Thule, etc .10 

48 A Prince.ss of Thule 20 

82 A Daughter of Heth 20 

85 Shandon Bells 20 

98 Macleod of Dare 20 

136 Yolande 20 

142 Strange Adventures of a Phaeton. . .20 

146 White Wings 20 

158 Sunrise, 2 Parts, each 15 

178 Madcap Violet 20 

180 Kilmeny 20 

182 That Beautiful Wretch 20 

184 Green Pastures, etc 20 

188 III Silk Attire 20 

218 The Three Feathers 20 

216 Lady Silverdale’s Sweetheart 10 

217 The Four MacNicols 10 

218 Mr. Plsi.stratus Brown, M.P 10 

225 Oliver Goldsmith 10 

282 Monarch of Mincing Lane 20 

456 Judith Shokespeare 20 

584 Wise Women of Inverness 10 

678 White Heather 20 

958 Sabina Zenibra 20 

BY LILLIE D. BLAKE 

105 Woman’s Place To-day 20 

597 Fettered for Life 25 

BY KEMPER BOCOCK 

1078 Tax the Area 20 


BY R. D. BLACKMORE 


851 Lorna Doone, Part 1 20 

851 Lorna Doone, Part II 20 

936 Maid of Sker 20 

955 Cradock Nowell, Part 1 20 

955 Ci’adock Nowell, Part II 20 

961 Springhaven 20 

1084 Mary Anerley 20 

1035 Alice Lorraine 20 

1086 Cristowcll 20 

1087 Clara Vaughan 20 

1088 Cripps the Carrier 20 

1039 Remarkable History of Sir Tlios. 

Upmore . . .20 

1040 Erema ; or. My Father’s Sin 20 

BY RHODA BROUGHTON 

23 Second Thoughts 20 

280 Belinda 20 

781 Betty’s Visions ...15 

841 Dr. Cupid 20 

1022 Good-Bye, Sweetheart ... 20 

1028 Red as a Rose is She 20 

1024 Cometh up as a Flower 20 

1025 Not Wisely but too Well 20 

1026 Nancy 20 

1027 Joan 20 

BY ANNIE BRADSHAW 

716 A Crimson Stain 20 

BY CHARLOTTE BREMER 

448 Life of Fredrika Bremer 20 

BY CHARLOTTE BRONTE 

74 Jane Eyre 20 

897 Shirley 20 

BY MISS M. E. BRADDON 

88 The Golden Calt 2C 

104 Lady Audley’s Secret 20 

214 Phantom Fortune 20 

266 Under the Red Flag 10 

444 An Ishmaelite 20 

555 Aurora Floyd 20 

588 To the Bitter End 20 

596 Dead Sea Fruit 20 

698 The Mistletoe Bough 20 

766 Vixen 20 

783 The Octoroon 20 

814 Mohawks 20 

868 One Thing Needful 20 

869 Barbara ; or, Splendid Misery 20 

870 John Marchmont’s Legacy 20 

871 Joshua Haggard’s Daughter 20 

872 Taken at the Flood 20 

873 Asphodel 20 

877 The Doctor’s Wife 20 

878 Only a Clod 20 

879 Sir Jasper’s Tenant 20 

880 Lad v’s Mile 20 

881 Birds of Prey 20 

' 882 Charlotte’s inheritance 20 

883 Rupert Godwin 20 

886 Strangers and Pilgrims 20 

[ 887 A Strange World 20 

j 888 Mount Royal 20 

889 Just As I Am 20 

890 Dead Men’s Shoes 20 

892 Hostages to Fortune 20 

893 Fenton’s Quest 20 

894 The Cloven Foot 20 


2 


xo yell’s 

BY ELIZABETH BARRETT 


BROWNING 

421 Aurora Leigh 20 

479 Poems 36 

BY ROBERT BROWNING 

652 Selections from Poetical Works 20 

BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT 

443 Poems 20 

BY ROBERT BUCHANAN 

3iS The New Abelard 20 

090 The Master of the Mine 10 

BY JOHN BUNYAN 

200 The Pilgrim’s Progress 20 

BY ROBERT BURNS 

430 Poems 20 

BY REV. JAS. S. BUSH 

113 More Words about the Bible 20 

BY E. LASSETER BYNNER 

100 Nimport, 2 Parts, each 15 

102 Tritons, 2 Parts, each 15 

BY THOMAS CAMPBELL 

826 Poems 20 

BY LEWIS CARROLL 

480 Alice’s Adventures 20 

481 Through the Looking-Glass 20 

BY THOMAS CARLYLE 

486 History of French Hevolution, 2 

Parts, each 25 

494 Past and Present 20 

500 The Diamond Necklace ; and Mira- 

beau 20 

603 Chartism 20 

6"'8 Sartor Resartus 20 

514 Early Kings of Norway 20 

520 Jean Paul Friedrich Richter 10 

522 Goethe, and Miscellaneous Essays., .10 

525 Life of Heyne 15 

52S Voltaire and Novalis 15 

641 Heroes, and Hero-Worship 20 

646 Signs of the Times 15 

550 German Literature 15 

601 Portraits of John Knox 15 

571 Count Cagliostro, etc 16 

578 Frederick the Great, Vol, I 20 

580 “ “ “ Vol. II 20 

591 “ “ “ Vol. Ill 20 

610 “ “ “ Vol. IV 20 

019 “ “ “ Vol. V 20 

022 “ “ “ Vol. VI 20 

620 “ “ “ Vol. VII 20 

628 “ “ “ Vol. VIII 20 

630 Life of John Sterling 20 

6 ]3 Latter-Day Pamphlets 20 

636 Life of Schiller 20 

643 Oliver Cromwell, Vol. 1 25 

646 “ “ Vol. II 25 

649 “ “ Vol. Ill 25 

652 Characteristics and other Essays. . . 15 
656 Corn LawRhymesand other Essays. 15 

653 Baillio the Covenanter and other Es- 

says 15 

661 Dr. Erancia and other Essays 15 

1088 Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship, 

2 Parts, each 20 

1090 Wilhelm Meister’s Travels 20 


LIBRARY. 

BY ROSA NOUCHETE CAREY 


660 For Lilias 28 

911 Not Like other Girls 20 

912 Robert Ord’s Atonement 20 

959 Wee Wifie 20 

960 Wooed and Married 20 

BY WM. CARLETON 

190 Willy Reilly 20 

820 Shane Fadh’s Wedding 10 

821 Lan-y McFarland’s Wake 10 

822 The Party Fight and Funeral 10 

823 The Midnight Muss 10 

824 PhilPurcel 10 

965 An Irish Oath 10 

826 Going to Maynooth 10 

827 Phelim O’Toole’s Courtship 10 

828 Dominick, the Poor Scholar 10 

829 Neal Malone 10 

BY “ CAVENDISH” 

422 Cavendish Card Essays 15 

BY CERVANTES 

417 Don Quixote SO 

BY L. W. CHAMPNEY 

119 Bourbon Lilies 20 

BY VICTOR CHERBULIEZ 

242 Samuel Brolil & Co 20 

BY REV. JAS. FREEMAN CLARK 

167 Anti-Slavery Days 20 

BY CRIST ABEL R. COLERIDGE 

1®28 A Near Relation 20 

BY S. T. COLERIDGE 

523 Poems 30 

BY J. FENIMOBE COOPER 

6 The Last of the Mohicans 20 

53 The Spy 20 

365 The Pathfinder 20 

378 Homeward Bound 20 

441 Home as Found 20 

463 The Deerslaj'er 30 

467 The Prairie .20 

471 The Pioneer 25 

484 The Two Ad mirals 20 

488 The Water- Witch 20 

491 The Red Rover 20 

601 The Pilot 20 

.506 Wing and Wing 20 

512 Wyandotte 20 

517 Heidenmauer 20 

519 The Headsman 20 

524 The Bravo 20 

527 Lionel Lincoln 20 

529 Wept of Wish-ton-Wish 20 

532 Afloat and Ashore 20 

.539 Miles Wallingfoi'd 20 

543 The Monikins 20 

548 Mercedes of Castile 20 

553 The Sea Lions 20 

55i) The Crater 20 

562 Oak Openings 20 

570 Satanstoe 20 

,576 The Chain-Bearer 20 

587 Ways of the Hour 20 

601 Precaution 20 

003 Redskins 25 

611 Jack Tier 20 


3 


LOVELL’S LIBRARY. 


BY BERTHA M. CLAY 


183 Her Mother’s Sin 20 

si 277 Dora Thorne 20 

287 Beyond Pardon. 20 

420 A Broken Wedding-Ring 20 

423 Repented at Leisure 20 

458 Sunshine and Roses 20 

■\ 405 The Earl’s Atonement £0 

474 A Woman’s Temptation 20 

476 Love Works Wonders ..20 

658 Pair but False .,,10 

693 Between Two Sins 10 

(»51 At War with Herself 15 

\609 Hilda 10 

689 Her Martyrdom 20 

'\ 692 Lord Lynn’s Choice 10 

694 The Shadow of a Sin 10 

695 Wedded and Parted lO 

700 In Cupid’s Net 10 

701 Lady Darner’s Secret. 20 

718 A Gilded Sin 10 

N720 Between Two Loves 20 

727 Pot Another’s Sin 20 

730 Romance of a Young Girl 20 

733 A Queen Amongst Women 10 

738 A Golden Dawn 10 

739 Like no Other Love 10 

^740 A Bitter Atonement 20 

744 Evelyn’s Folly 20 

752 Set in Diamonds 20 

764 A Fair Mystery 2-0 

800 Thorns and Orange Blossoms. 10 

801 Romance of a Black Veil 10 

803 Love’s Warfare 10 

804 Madolin’s Lover 20 

^6 Prom Out the Gloom 20 

807 Which Loved Him Best 10 

808 A True Magdalen . 20 

809 The Sin of a Lifetime 20 

810 Prince Charlie’s Daughter 10 

811 A Golden Heart .... 10 

812 Wife in Name Only 20 

815 .k Woman’s Error 20 

896 Marjorie 20 

922 A Wilful Maid 20 

923 . Lafly Castlemaine’s Divorce 20 

926 Olaribel’s Love Story 20 

928 Thrown on the World 20 

929 U nder a' Shadow ... 20 

930 A Struggle for a Ring 20 

932 Hilary’s Folly 20 

933 A Haunted Life 20 

934 A Woman’s Love Story 20 

969 A Woman’s War 20 

984 'Twixt Smile and Tear. 20 

985 Lady Diana’s Pride 20 

986 Belle of Lynn 20 

988 Marjorie’s Fate 20 

989 S weet Cyrabeline 20 

1007 Redeemed by Love 20 

1012 The Squire's Darling 10 

1013 The Mystery of Colde Fell 20 

1030 On Her Wedding Morn 10 

1031 The Shattered Idol 10 

1033 Letty Leigh 10 

1041 The Mystery of the Holly Tree 10 

1042 The Earl’s Error 10 

1043 Arnold’s Promise 10 

1051 An Unnatural Bondage 10 

1064 The Duke’s Secret 30 


BY WILKIE COLLINS 

8 The Moonstone, Part I II 

9 The Moonstone, Part II 10 

24 The New Magdalen 20 

87 Heart and Science 20 

418 “I Say No” 20 

437 Tales of Two Idle Apprentices 15 

68^3 The Ghost’s Touch 10 

686 My Lad j'’s Money 10 

722 The Evil Genius 20 

839 The Guilty River 10 

957 The Dead Secret 20 

996 The Queen of Hearts 20 

1003 The Haunted Hotel 10 

BY HUGH CONWAY 

429 Called Back 15 

462 Dark Days 15 

612 Carriston’s Gift 10 

617 Paul Vargas: a Mystery 10 

631 A Family Affair 20 

667 Story of a Sculptor 10 

672 Slings and Arrows 10 

715 A Cardinal Sin 20 

745 Living or Dead 20 

750 Somebody’s Story 10 

968 Bound by a Spell 20 

BY C. H. W. COOK 

1099 The True Solution of the Labor 
Question 10 

BY KINAHAN CORNWALLIS 

409 Adrift with a Vengeance 25 

BY GEORGIANA M; CRAIK 

1006 A Daughter of the People 20 

BY R. CRISWELL 

350 Grandfather Lickshingle 20 

BY R. H. DANA, JR. 

464 Two Years before the Mast 20 

BY DANTE 

345 Dante’s Vision of Hell, Purgatory, 

and Paradise 20 

BY FLORA A. DARLING 

260 Mrs. Darling’s War Letters 20 

BY JOYCE DARRELL 

315 Winifred Power 20 

BY ALPHONSE DAUDET 

478 Tartarin of Tarascon 20 

604 Sidonie 20 

613 Jack 20 

615 The Little Good-for-Nothiug 20 

645 The Nabob 25 

BY REV. C. H. DAVIES, D.D. 

45.3 Mystic London 20 

BY THE DEAN OF ST. PAUL’S 

431 Life of Spenser lO 

BY C. DEBANS 

475 A Sheep in Wolf’s Clothing 20 

BY REV. C. F. DEEMS, D.D. 

704 Evolution 20 

BY DANIEL DEFOE 

^ Robinson Crusoe 26 


4 


LOVELL’S LIBEAEY 


BY THOS. DE QUINCEY 


20 The Spanish Nun 10 

1070 Confessions of an English Opium 
Eater 20 

BY GAEL DETLEE 

29 Irene; or, The Lonely Manor 20 

BY CHAKLES DICKENS 

10 Oliver Twist 20 

38 A Tale of Two Cities 20 

75 Child’s History of England 20 

91 Pickwick Papers, 2 Parts, each £0 

140 The Cricket on the Hearth 10 

144 Old Curiosity Shop, 2 Parts, each.. . 15 

150 Barnaby Kudge, 2 Parts, each 15 

158 David Copperteld, 2 Parts, each. . . .20 

170 Hard Times 20 

192 Great Expectations 20 

201 Martin Chuzzlewit, 2 Parts, each. . . .20 

210 American Notes 20 

219 Dombey and Son, 2 Parts, each 20 

223 Little Dorrit, 2 Parts, each 20 

228 Our Mutual Friend, 2 Parts, each ... 20 

231 Nicholas Nickleby, 2 Parts, each 20 

234 Pictures from Italy 15 

237 The Boy at Mugby 10 

244 Bleak Hottse, 2 Parts, each 20 

246 Sketches of the Young Couples. 30 

261 Master Humphrey’s Clock 10 

267 The Haunted House, etc 10 

270 The Mudfog Papers, etc 10 

273 Sketches by Boz 20 

274 A Christmas Carol, etc 15 

282 Uncommercial Traveller 20 

288 Somebody’s Luggage, etc 10 

293 The Battle of Life, etc 30 

2!*7 Mysterj' of Edwin Drood 20 

298 Reprinted Pieces 20 

302 N o Thoroughfare 15 

437 Tales of Two Idle Apprentices 10 

BY PKOF. BOWDEN 

404 Life of Southey 10 

BY JOHN DEYDEN 

498 Poems 30 

BY THE “DUCHESS” 

• 58 Portia 20 

76 Molly Bawn 20 

78 Phyllis... 20 

86 Monica 30 

90 Jfrs. Geoffrey 20 

92 Airy Fairy Lilian 20 

126 Loys, Lord Beresford 20 

132 Moonshine and Marguerites 10 

162 Faith and Unfaith 20 

168 Beauty’s Daughters 20 

2S4 Ro.ssmoyne 20 

451 Doris 20 

477 A Weelr in Killarney 10 

530 In Durance Vile 10 

618 Dick’s Sweetheart ; or, “ O Tender 

Dolores” 20 

621 A Maiden all Forlorn 10 

624 A Passive Crime 30 

721 Lady Bi’anksmere 20 

735 A Mental Strusrgle 20 

737 The Haunted Chamber 10 

792 Her AVeek’s Amusement 10 

802 Lady. Valw Orth's Diamonds 20 

1065 A Modern Circe 20 

1072 The Duchess 20 


BY F. DU BOISGOBEY 

1018 The Condemned Door 20 

1080 The Blue Veil; or, The Crime of 

the Tower 20 

1120 The Matapan AfOair 20 

BY LOED DUFFEEIN 

95 Letters from High Latitudes 20 

BY ALEXANDEE DUMAS, JE. 

992 Camille 10 

BY ALEXANDEE DUMAS 

761 Count of Monte Cristo, Part 1 20 

761 Count of Monte Cristo, Part IL 20 

775 The Three Guardsmen 20 

786 Twenty Years After 20 

884 The Son of Monte Cristo, Part I 20 

884 The Son of Monte Cristo, Part II. . . 20 

885 Monte Cristo and His Wife 20 

891 Countess of Monte Cristo, Parti. ..20 
891 Countess of Monte Cristo, Part II. ..20 
998 Beau Tancrede 20 


BY MBS. ANNIE EDWAEDS 


681 A Girton Girl 20 

BY M. BETHAM-EDWAEDS 

203 Disarmed 16 

663 The Flower of Doom 10 

1005 Next of Kin 20 

BY GEOEGE ELIOT 

56 Adam Bede, 2 Parts, each 16 

69 Amos Barton 10 

71 Silas Marner 10 

79 llomola, 2 Parts, each 16 

149 Janet’s Repentance 10 

151 Feli.x Holt 20 

174 Middlemarch, 2 Parts, each 20 

195 Daniel Deronda, 2 Parts, each 20 

202 Theophrastus Such 10 

205 The Spanish Gypsy.and other Poems20 

207 The Mill on the Flos.s, 2 Parts, each. 15 

208 Brother Jacob, ev. 10 

874 Essays, and Leaves from a Note 7 

Book 20 


BY EALPH WALDO EMEEiSON 


373 Essays 20 

ENGLISH MEN OF LETTEES. 
EDITED BY JOHN MOELEY 

348 Bunyan, b.v J. A. Froude 10 

407 Burke, by John Morley 10 

334 Burns, by Principal Shairp 10 

347 Byron, by Professor Nichol .10 

413 Chaucer, by Prof. A. W. Ward 10 

424 Cowper, by Goldwin Smith 10 

377 Defoe, by William Minto 10 

383 Gibbon, by J. C. Morrison 30 

225 Goldsmith, by William Black 30 

369 Hume, by Professor Huxlej' 10 

401 Johnson, by Leslie Stephen 10 

380 Locke, by Thomas Fowler 10 

392 Milton, by Mark Pattison 10 

398 Pope, by Leslie Stephen 10 

364 Scott, by R. H. Hutton 30 

361 Shelley, by J. Symonds 10 

404 Southey, l)y Professor Dowden. ...10 

431 Spenser, by the Dean of St. Paul’s. .10 

344 Thackeray, by Anthony Trollope. ..10 

410 Wordsworth, by P. Myers .10 


5 


LOVELL’S LIBRAKY. 


BY B. L. FAEJEON 

243 Gautran ; or, House of White Shad- 


ows 20 

654 Love’s Harvest 20 

874 Nine of Hearts 20 

BY HAEEIET FAELEY 

473 Christmas S torics 20 

BY F. W. FAEEAR, D.D. 

19 Seekers af ter G od 20 

50 Early Days of Christianity, 2 Parts, 
each 20 

BY GEORGE MANNVILLE FENN 

1004 This Man’s Wife 20 

loco The Bag of Diamonds 20 

BY OCTAVE FEUILLET 

41 A Marriage in High Life 20 

987 Romance of a Poor Young Man. . . .10 

BY MRS. FORRESTER 

760 Fair Women 20 

818 Once Again 20 

843 My Lord and My Lady 20 

844 Dolores 20 

850 My Hero 20 

859 Viva 20 

860 Omnia Vanitas 10 

861 Diana Carew 20 

862 From Olympus to Hades 20 

863 Rhona 20 

804 Roy and Viola 20 

865 June 20 

866 Mignon 20 

867 A Young Man’s Fancy 20 

BY FRIEDRICH. BARON DE LA 
MOTTE FOXTQUE 

711 Undine 10 

BY THOMAS FOWLER 

380 Life of Locke ......10 

BY FRANCESCA 

177 The Story of Ida 10 

BY R. E. FRANCILLON 

319 A Real Queen 20 

856 Golden Bells 10 

BY ALBERT FRANKLYN 

122 Ameline de Bourg 16 

BY L. VIRGINIA FRENCH 

485 My Roses . 20 

BY J. A. FROUDE 

348 Life of Bunyan 10 

BY EMILE GABORIAIJ 

114 Monsieur Lecoq, 2 Parts, each 20 

116 The Lerouge Ca.se 20 

120 Other People’s Money 20 

129 In Peril of His Life 20 

138 The Gilded Clique 20 

155 Mystery of Orcival 20 

161 Promise of Marriage 10 

258 Pile No. 113 20 

1119 The Little Old Man of the Bati- 

gnolles 20 

1123 The Count’s Millions, Part 1 20 

“ ” Part II 20 


BY HENRY GEORGE 

52 Progress and Poverty 21 

390 Land Question 10 

393 Social Problems 20 

796 Property in Land 15 

BY CHARLES GIBBON 

67 The Golden Shaft ..20 

BY J. W. VON GOETHE 

342 Goethe’s Faust 2€ 

343 Goethe’s Poems 20 

1088 Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship, 

2 Parts, each 20 

1090 Wilhelm Mei.«tcr’s Travels 20 

BY NIKOLAI V. GOGOL 

1016 Taras Bulba 20 

BY OLIVER GOLDSMITH 

61 Vicar of Wakefield 10 

362 Plays and Poems 20 

BY MRS. GORE 

89 The Dean’s Daughter 20 

BY JAMES GRANT 

49 The Secret Despatch 20 

BY HENRI GREVILLE 

ICOl Frankley 20 

BY CECIL GRIFFITH 

732 Victory Deane 20 

BY ARTHUR GRIFFITHS 

709 No. 99 10 

THE BROTHERS GRIMM 

221 Fairy Tale.s. Illustrated 20 

BY LAURENCE GRONLUND 

1096 The Co-operative Commonwealth. .30 

BY LIEUT. J. W. GUNNISON 

440 History of the Mormons 15 

BY F. W. HACKLANDER 

606 Forbidden Fruit 20 

BY ERNST HAECKEL 

97 India and Ceylon 20 

BY H. RIDER HAGGARD 

813 King Solomon’s Mines 20 

848 She 20 

876 The Witch’s Head 20 

900 Jess 20 

941 Dawn 20 

1020 Allan Qnatermain 20 

1100 Tale of Three Lions 10 

BY A. EGMONT HAKE 

371 The Story of Chinese Gordon 20 

BY LUDOVIC HALEVY 

16 L’ Abba Constantin 20 

BY THOMAS HARDY 

43 Two on a Tower 20 

1.57 Romantic Adventures of a Milk- 
maid 10 

749 The Mayor of Casterbridge 20 

958 The Wobdlandcrs 20 

984 Far from the Madding Crowd 20 

BY MARION HARLAND 


107 Housekeeping and Homemaking.. , .15 


LOVELL'S LIBRARY. 


BY JOHN HARRISON AND M. 


COMPTON 

414 Over the Summer Sea 20 

BY J. B. HARWOOD 

269 One False, both Fair 20 

BY JOSEPH HATTON 

7 Clytie 20 

137 Cruel Loudon 20 

BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE 

370 Twice Told Tales 20 

376 Grandfather’s Chair 20 

BY MARY CECIL HAY 

466 Under the Will 10 

566 The Arundel Motto 20 

590 Old Myddieton’s Money 20 

7«7 A Wicked Girl 10 

971 Nora's Love Test 20 

972 The Squire’s Legacy 20 

973 Dorothy’s Venture 20 

974 My First Offer 10 

975 Back to the Old Home 10 

976 For Her Dear Sake 20 

977 Hidden Perils 20 

978 Victor and Vanquished 20 

1029 Brenda Yorke 10 

BY MRS. FELICIA HEMANS 

583 Poems 30 

BY DAVID J. HILL, LL.D. 

633 Principles and Fallacies of Social- 
ism 15 

BY M. L. HOLBROOK, M.D. 

356 Hygiene of the Brain 25 

BY MRS. M. A. HOLMES 

709 Woman against Woman 20 

743 A Woman’s V engeance 20 

BY PAXTON HOOD 

73 Life of Cromwell 15 

BY THOMAS HOOD 

611 Poems 3C 

BY HORRY AND WEEMS 

36 Life of Marion 20 

BY ROBERT HOUDIN 

14 The Tricks of the Greeks 20 

BY ADAH M. HOWARD 

970 Against Her Will 20 

993 The Child Wife 10 

BY MARIE HOWLAND 

534 Papa’s Own Girl SO 

BY EDWARD HOWLAND 

742 Social Solutions, Part I 10 

747 “ “ Part II 10 

753 “ “ Part III 10 

762 “ “ Part IV 10 

705 “ » PartV 10 

774 » “ Part VI .... .. ..10 

778 “ ‘ Part VII 10 

782 “ “ Part VIII 10 

785 “ “ Part IX 10 

788 “ “ PartX 10 

791 '• “ Part XI 10 

795 “ Part XII 10 


BY JOHN W. HOYT, LL.D. 

Studies in Civil Service ..16 

BY THOMAS HUGHES 

Tom Brown’s School Day? ^0 

Tom Brown at Oxford, 2 Parts, each. 15 

BY VICTOR HUGO 

Les Miserables, Part 1 20 

“ “ Part II 20 

“ “ Part III 20 

BY STANLEY HUNTLEY 

The Spoopendyke Papers 20 

BY R. H. HUTTON 

Life of Scott 20 

BY PROF. HUXLEY 

Life of Hume. 10 

BY WASHINGTON IRVING 

The Sketch Book 20 

Tales of a Traveller 20 

Life and Voyages of Columbus, 

Parti 20 

Life and Voyages of Columbus, 

Part II 20 

Abbotsford and Newstead Abbey... 10 
Knickerbocker History of New york.20 

The Crayon Papers 20 

The Alhamb7-a 15 

Conquest of Granada 20 

Conquest of Spain 10 

Bracebridge Hall 20 

Salmagundi 20 

Astoria 20 

Spanish Voyages 20 

A Tour, on the Prairies 10 

Life of Mahomet, 2 Parts, each 15 

Oliver Goldsmith 20 

Captain Ihmneville 20 

Moorish Chronicles 10 

Wolfert’s Iloost and Miscellanies .... 10 

BY HARRIET JAY 

The Dark Colleen 20 

BY SAMUEL JOHNSON 

Kasselas 10 

BY MAURICE JOKAI 

A Modern Midas 20 

BY JOHN KEATS 

Poems 25 

BY EDWARD KELLOGG 

Labor and Capital 2G 

BY GRACE KENNEDY 

Dunallan, 2 Parts, each 15 

BY JOHN P. KENNEDY 

Horse- Shoe Bobinson, 2 Parts, each. 15 

BY CHARLES KINGSLEY 

The Hermits ...20 

Hypatia, 2 Parts, each 15 

BY HENRY KINGSLEY 

Austin Eliot 20 

The Hitlyars and Burtons 20 

Leighton Court 20 

GooUx-ey Hamlyn 89 


535 

61 

186 

784 

784 

784 

109 

364 

369 

147 

198 

199 

224 

236 

249 

263 

272 

27<) 

281 

290 

299 

301 

305 

308 

310 

311 

314 

321 

17 

44 

754 

531 

111 

106 

67 

39 

64 

726 

728 

731 

736 


7 


LOVELL’ 8 


BY W. H. G. KINGSTON 

854 Peter the Whaler SO 

322 Mark Seaworth 20 

324 Round the World 20 

S35 The Young Foresters 20 

337 Saltwater 20 

833 The Midshipman 20 

BY F. KIEBY 

454 The Golden Dog {Le chien cCor) .... 40 

BY A. LA POINTE 

445 The Rival Doctors 20 

BY MISS MARGAEET LEE 

26 Divorce 20 

600 A Brighton Night 20 

725 Dr. Wilmer’s Love 25 

741 Lorimer and Wife 20 

BY VERNON LEE 

797 A Phantom Lover 10 

798 Prince of the Hundred Soups 10 

BY JULES LERMINA 

469 The Chase 20 

BY CHARLES LEVER 

327 Harry Lorrequer 20 

789 Charles O’Malley, 2 Parts, each 20 

794 Tom Burke of Ours, 2 Parts, each . . 20 

BY H. W. LONGFELLOW 

1 H yperion 20 

2 Outre-Mer 20 

482 Poems 20 

BY SAMUEL LOVER 

163 The Happy Man 10 

719 Rory O’More 20 

849 Handy Andy 20 

BY LORD LYTTON 

11 The Coming Race 10 

12 Leila 10 

31 Ernest Maltravers 20 

32 The Haunted House 10 

45 Alice: A Sequel to Ernest Maltra- 
vers 20 

65 A Strange Story 20 

69 Last Days of Pompeii 20 

81 Zanoni 20 

84 Night and Morning, 2 Parts, each. .15 

117 Paul Clifford 20 

121 Lady of Lyons 10 

128 Money 10 

152 Richelieu 10 

160 Rienzi, 2 Parts, each 15 

176 Pelham 20 

204 Eugene Aram 20 

222 The Disowned 20 

240 Kenelm Chillingly 20 

245 What Will He Do with It ? 2 Parts, 

each 20 

217 Devereux 20 

250 The Caxtons, 2 Parts, each 15 

253 Lncretia 20 

255 Last of the Barons, 2 Parts, each . . .15 

259 The Parisians. 2 Parts, each 20 

271 My Novel, 3 Parts, each 20 

276 Harold, 2 Parts, each 15 

^9 Godolphin 20 

294 Pilgrims of the Rhine 15 

S17 Pausanias 15 


LIBRARY. 

BY COMMANDER LOVETT-CAM- 
ERON. 

817 The Cruise of the Black Prince. . . .24 

BY MRS. H. LOVETT-CAMERON 


927 Pure Gold . . 24 

BY HENRY W. LUCY 

96 Gideon Fleyce ..24 

BY HENRY C. LUKENS 

131 Jets and Flashes 28 

BY EDNA LYALL 

962 Knights-Errant 20 

BY E. LYNN LYNTON 

275 lone Stewart 20 

BY LORD MACAULAY 

333 Lays of Ancient Rome 20 

BY KATHERINE S- MACQUOID 

898 Joan Wentworth 20 

BY E. MARLITT 

771 The Old Mam’selle’s Secret 20 

1053 Gold Elsie 20 

BY CAPTAIN MARRYAT 

212 The Privateersman 20 

BY FLORENCE MARRYAT. 

903 The Master Passion 20 

904 A Lucky Disappointment 10 

905 Her Lord and Master 20 

906 My Own Child 20 

907 No Intentions .20 

908 Written in Fire 20 

909 A Little Stepson 10 

910 With Cupid’s E 3 ^es 20 

931 Why Not?- 20 

937 My Sister" the Actress 20 

938 Captain Norton’s Diary 10 

939 Girls of Feversham 20 

5)40 The Root of all Evil 20 

9 12 Facing the Footlights 20 

943 Petronel 20 

944 A Star and a Heart . .10 

946 Ange 20 

946 A Harvest of Wild Oats 20 

947 The Poison of Asps 10 

948 Fair-Haired Alda 20 

949 The Heir Presumptive 20 

950 Under the Liliea^and Roses. 20 

9.51 Heart of Jane \\^iimer 20 

952 Love’s Conflict, Part 1 20 

952 Love’s Conflict, Part II 20 

953 Phyllida 20 

954 Out of His Reckoning 10 

979 Her World against a Lie 20 

990 Open Sesame 20 

991 Mad Dumaresq 20 

999 Fighting the Air 20 

BY HELEN MATHERS 

165 Eyre’s Acquittal 10 

1046 Cornin’ Thro’ the Rye 20 

1047 Sam’s Sweetheart 20 

1048 Story of a Sin 20 

1049 Cherry Ripe 2(J 

1060 My Lady Green Sleeves ...28 


lovell’s libraky. 


BY HARRIET MARTINEATJ 


S53 Tales of the French Ke volution 15 

354 Loom and Lugger 20 

357 Berkeley the Banker 20 

358 Homes Abroad 15 

363 For Each and For All 15 

372 Hill and Valley 15 

879 The Charmed Sea 15 

388 Life in the Wilds 15 

395 Sowers not Reapers 15 

400 Glen of the Echoes 15 

BY A. MATHEY 

46 DukeofKandos 20 

60 The Two Duchesses 20 

BY W. S. MAYO 

70 The Berber 20 

BY j. H. McCarthy 

115 An Outline of Irish History 10 

BY JUSTIN McCarthy, m.p. 

278 Maid of Athens 20 

BY T. L. MEADE 

328 How It All Came Round 20 

BY OWEN MEREDITH 

331 Lucile 20 

BY JOHN MILTON 

389 Farad i se Lost 20 

1092 Poems 35 

BY WILLIAM MINTO 

377 Life of Defoe 10 

BY MRS. MOLESWORTH 

1008 MaiTying and Giving in Marriage ..10 

BY SUSANNA MOODIE 

1067 Geoffrey Moncton . . . .• 30 

1068 Flora Lyndsay .'. 20 

1074 Roughing it in the Bush 20 

1076 Life in the Backwoods 20 

1085 Life in the Clearings 20 

BY THOMAS MOORE 

416 Lalla Rookh 20 

487 Poems 40 

BY JOHN MORLEY 

407 Life of Burke 10 

BY J. C. MORRISON 

383 Life of Gibbon lO 

BY EDWARlD H. MOTT 

139 Pike County Folks 20 

BY ALAN MUIR 

312 Golden Girls 20 

BY LOUISA MUHLBACH 

1000 Frederick the Great and hi.s Court. .30 

1014 The Daughter of an Empress 30 

1054 Goethe and Schiller 30 

1091 Queen Hortense 30 

BY MAX MULLER 

130 India: What Can It Teach IJs? 20 

BY MISS MULOCK 

33 John Halifax 20 

435 Miss Tommy 15 

T5l King Arthur .• 20 


BY DAVID CHRISTIE MURRAY 


197 By the Gate of the Sea 16 

758 Cynic Fortune 10 

1116 One Traveller Returns 20 

BY F. MYERS 

410 Life of Wordsworth 10 

BY FLORENCE NEELY 

564 Hand-Book for the Kitchen 2C 

BY REV. R. H. NEWTON 

83 Right and Wrong Uses of the Bible. .20 

BY JOHN NICHOL 

347 Life of Byron 10 

BY JAMES R. NICHOLS, M.D. 

375 Science at Home 20 

BY W. E. NORRIS 

108 No New Thing 20 

592 That Terrible Man 10 

779 My Friend Jim 10 

BY CHRISTOPHER NORTH 

439 Noctes Ambrosianm 30 

BY F. E. M. NOTLEY 

1095 From the Other Side 20 

BY LAURENCE OLIPHANT 

196 Altiora Peto 20 

BY MRS. OLIPHANT 

124 The Ladies Lindores 20 

179 The Little Pilgrim 10 

175 Sir Tom 20 

326 The Wizard’s Son 25 

368 Old Lady Mary 10 

602 Oliver’s Bride 10 

717 A Country Gentleman 20 

831 The Son of his Father 20 

920 John : a Love Story 20 

925 A Poor Gentleman 20 

994 Lucy Crofton 10 

BY MAX O’RELL 

336 John Bull and His Island : . 20 

459 John Bull and His Daughters 20 

BY OUIDA 

112 Wanda, 2 Parts, each 15 

127 Under Two Flags, 2 Parts, each. . . . 20 

387 Princess Napraxine 25 

675 A Rainy June 10 

763 Moths 20 

790 Othmar 20 

805 A House Party 10 

852 Friendship 20 

853 In Maremma 20 

854 Signa 20 

855 Pascarel 20 

BY ALBERT K. OWEN 

655 Integral Co-operation 30 

BY LOUISA PARR 

42 Robin 20 

BY MARK PATTISON 

392 Life of Milton 10 

BY JAMES PAYN 

1S7 Thicker than Water 20 

330 The Canon’s Ward 20 

659 Luck of the Darrells 20 


0 


LOVELL’ S LIBRARY. 


BY HENRY PETERSON 

1015 Pemberton 30 

BY F. C. PHILLIPS 

1082 Strange Adventures of Lucy Smith ,20 

108;i As in a Looking Glass 2U 

1084 The Dean and his Daughter 20 

1097 Jack and Three Jills 20 

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE 

403 Poems 20 

426 Narrative of A. Gordon Pym 15 

432 Gold Bug, and Other Tales 15 

438 The Assignation, and Other Tales. .15 
447 The Murders in the Rue Morgue ... 15 


BY WILLIAM POLE, F.R.S. 

406 The Theory of the Modern Scien- 
tific Game of Whist 16 


BY ALEXANDER POPE 

391 Homer’s Odyssey 20 

396 Homer’s Iliad 30 

457 Poems... 30 

BY JANE PORTER 

189 Scottish Chiefs, Part 1 20 

Scottish Chiefs, Part II 20 

382 Thaddeus of Warsaw 25 

BY C. F. POST AND FRED. C. 
LEUBUCHER 

838 The George-Hewitt Campaign 20 

BY ADELAIDE A. PROCTER 

339 Poems 20 

BY AGNES RAY 

1010 Mrs. Gregory 20 

BY CHARLES READE 

28 Singleheart and Doubleface 10 

415 A Perilous Secret 20 

759 Foul Play 20 

773 Put Yourself in his Place 20 

913 Griffith Gaunt 20 

914 A Terrible Temptation 20 

915 Very Hard Cash 20 

916 It is Never Too Late to Mend 20 

917 The Knightsbridge Mystery 10 

918 A Woman Hater 20 

919 Readiana 10 

BY REBECCA FERGUS REDD 

16 Freckles 20 

408 The Brierfield Tragedy 20 

BY “ RITA’' 

556 Dame Durden 20 

699 Like Dian’s Kiss 20 

BY SIR H. ROBERTS 

101 Harry Holbrooke 20 

BY A. M. F. ROBINSON 

134 Arden 15 

BY REGINA MARIA ROCHE 

411 ChiMren of the Abbey 30 

ROLLIN’S ANCIENT HISTORY. 

1108 Volume 1 20 

1111. “ II 20 

1114 “ III 20 

1117 “ IV 20 

1122 “ V 20 

1125 “ VI 20 

1128 •• VII 20 

1131 “VIII 20 


BY BLANCHE ROOSEVELT 


837 Marked “In Haste” 26 

BY DANTE ROSSETTI 

329 Poems 20 

BY JOHN RUSKIN 

497 Sesame and Lilies 10 

605 Crown of Wild Olives 10 

510 Ethics of the Dust 10 

616 Queen of the Air 10 

521 Seven Lamps of Architecture 20 

537 Lectures on Architecture and Paint- 
ing 1.5 

642 Stones of Venice, 3 Vols., each 25 

565 Modern Painter-s, Vol. 1 20 

572 “ “ Vol. II 20 

577 “ “ Vol. Ill 20 

.589 “ “ Vol, IV 2.5 

608 “ “ Vol. V 25 

598 King of the Golden River 10 

623 Uuto this Last 10 

627 Munera Pulveris 15 

637 “ A Joy Forever ” 16 

639 The Pleasures of England 10 

642 The Two Paths 20 

644 Lectui'es on A.rt 15 

647 Aratra Pentelici 15 

650 Time and Tide 15 

665 Mornings in Florence 15 

668 St. Mark’s Rest 15 

670 Deucalion 16 

673 Art of England 15 

676 Eagle’s Nest 15 

679 ‘ Our Fathers Have Told Us” 15 

682 Proserpina 15 

685 Val d'Arno 15 

688 Love’s Meinic 15 

707 Fors Clavigera, Part 1 30 

708 “ “ Part 1 1 30 

713 “ “ Part III 30 

714 “ “ Part IV 80 

BY MRS. ROWSON 

159 Charlotte Temple 10 

BY W. CLARK RUSSELL 

123 A Sea Queen 20 

39il John Holdsworth 20 

833 A Voyage to the Cape 20 

834 Jack’s Courtship 20 

835 A Sailor’s Sweetheart 20 

836 On the Fo'k’sle Head 20 

997 The Golden Hope 20 

1087 The Frozen Pirate 20 

BY DORA RUSSELL 

816 The Broken Seal 20 

BY GEORGE SAND 

1.35 The Tower of Pcrcemont 20 

965 The Lilies of Florence 20 

BY J. X. B. SAINTINE 

no Picciola 10 

BY MRS. W. A. SAVILLE 

27 Social Etiquette. ... 15 

BY DR. E. J. SCHELLHO'^S 

1094 The New Republi.; 3C 

BY J. C. F. VON SCHILLER 

341 Schiller’s Poems 26 

BY MICHAEL SCOTT 

171 Tom Cringle’s Log 20 


10 


LOVELL’S LIBRAEY. 


BY SIR WALTER SCOTT 

145 Ivauhoe, 2 Parts, each 15 

359 Lady of the Lake, with Notes 20 

489 Bride of Lammermoor 20 

490 Black Dwarf 10 

492 Castle Dangerous 16 

493 Legend of Montrose .15 

495 The Surgeon’s Daughter '.10 

499 Heart of Mid-Lothian 30 

602 Waverley . 20 

604 Fortunes of Nigel 20 

609 Peveril of the Peak 30 

515 The Pirate 20 

536 Poetical Works 40 

544 Redgauntlet 25 

551 Woodstock 20 

657 Count Robert of Paris 20 

669 The Abbot 20 

675 Quentin Durward 20 

581 The Talisman 20 

686 St. Ronan’s Well 20 

695 Anne of Geierstein 20 

605 Aunt Margaret’s Mirror 10 

607 Chronicles of the Canongate 15 

609 The Monastery 20 

620 GuyMannering 20 

625 Kenilworth 25 

629 The Antiquary 20 

Rob Roy 20 

635 The Betrothed 20 

638 Fair Maid of Perth 20 

641 Old Mortality 20 

BY EUGENE SCRIBE 

22 Fleurette 20 

BY PRINCIPAL SHAIRP 

334 Life of Burns 10 

BY MARY W. SHELLEY 

5 Frankenstein 10 

BY PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY 

649 Complete Poetical Works 30 

BY S. SHELLEY 

191 The Nautz Family 20 

BY J. H. SHORTHOUSE 

832 Sir Percival 10 

BY EDITH SIMCOX 

513 Men, Women, and Lovers 20 

BY WILLIAM GILMORE SIMMS 

640 The Partisan 30 

648 Mellichampe 30 

653 The Yemassee 30 

657 Katherine Walton 30 

662 Southward Ho ! 30 

671 The Scout 30 

674 The Wigwam and Cabin 30 

677 V asconselos SO 

650 Confession 30 

684 Woodcraft 30 

637 Richard Hurdis .30 

690 Guy Rivers 30 

693 Border Beagles SO 

697 TheFoi'ayers 30 

702 Charlemont 30 

703 Eutaw 30 

7 05 Beauch ampe 30 

BY J. P. SIMPSON 

125 Haunted Hearts 10 

BY A. P. SINNETT 

924 Karma 20 , 


BY HAWLEY SMART 

780 Bad to Beat 10 

1103 Saddle and Sabie 20 

BY SAMUEL SMILES 

425 Self-Help 25 

BY A. SMITH 

594 A Summer in Sk 5 'e 20 

BY GOLDWIN SMITH 

110 False Hopes 15 

424 Life of Cowper 10 

BY J. GREGORY SMITH 

65 Selma 16 

BY S. M. SMUCKER 

248 Life of Webster, 2 Parts, each 15 

BY F. SPIELHAGEN 

449 Quisiana 20 

BY STARKWEATHER AND ' 
WILSON 

461 Socialism 10 


BY LESLIE STEPHEN 

396 Life of Pope 10 

401 Life of Johnson 10 

BY STEPNIAK 

173 Underground Russia 20 

BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON I 

767 Kidnapped 20 

768 Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. 

Hyde 10 

769 Prince Otto 10 

770 The Dynamiter 20 

793 New Arabian Nights 20 

819 Treasure Island 20 

921 The Merry Men 20 

1102 The Misadventures of John Nich- 
olson 10 


BY HESBA STRETTON 

729 In Prison and Out 20 

BY JULIAN STURGIS 

1062 Dick’s Wandering 20 

BY EUGENE SUE 
772 Mysteries of Paris, 2 Parts, each ... 20 
776 The Wandering Jew, 2 Parts, each .20 

BY DEAN SWIFT 

68 Gulliver’ s Travel s 20 

BY CEAS. ALGERNON SWIN- 
BURNE 

412 Poems 20 

BY J. A. SYMONDS 

361 Life of Shelley 10 

BY H.' A. TAINE 

442 Taine’s English Literature 40 

BY NIKOLAI V. TCHERNUISH- 
COSKY 

1017 A Vital Question 30 

BY LORD TENNYSON 

446 Poems ...' .40 

BY JUDGE D. P. THOMPSON 

21 The Green Mountain Boys 20 

BY THEODORE TILTON 

94 Tempest Tossed, Part I 20 

94 Tempest Tossed, Part II 20 


11 


LOVELL'S LIIiRAEY 


BY W. M. THACKERAY 


141 Henry Esmond 20 

143 Denis Duval 20 

148 Catherine 10 

15(5 Lovel, the Widower 10 

164 Barry Lyndon 20 

172 Vanity Fair 30 

193 History of Pendennis, 2 Parts, each. .2(.) 

211 The Newcoraes, 2 Parts, each 20 

220 Book of Snobs 10 

229 Paris Sketches 20 

235 Adventures of Philip, 2 Parts, each . . 15 

238 The Viro:mians, 2^'arts, each 20 

252 Critical Reviews, etc 10 

256 Eastern Sketches 10 

262 Fatal Boots, etc 10 

2S4 The Four Georges 10 

280 Fitzboodle Papers, etc 10 

283 Roundabout Papers 20 

285 A Legend of the Rhine, etc 10 

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THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE 


BY 


G.'i^MANVILLE FEKN 


AUTHOR OP “ONE maid’s MISCHIEF,” “ THIS MAN’s WIPE,” ETC., ETa 



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THE STOHT OF ANTONY GEACE. 

• 

CHAPTER I. 

THE MAN IN POSSESSION. 

Mr. Rowle came the day after the funeral, -wallilng straight in, 
and, nodding to cook, who opened the door, hung up his shabby 
hat in the hall. Then, to my surprise, he took it down again, and 
after gazing into it as Mr. Blakeford used to do in his when' he 
came over to our church, he turned it round, made an offer as if 
about to put it on wrong way first, reconsidered the matter, put 
it on in the regular way, and as it seemed to me drew his sword. 

But it was not his sword, only a very long clay pipe which he 
had been carrying up his left sleeve, with the bowl in his hand. 
Then, thrusting the said hand into his tail-pocket, he brought out 
a little roll of tobacco, upon which was printed, as I afterwards 
saw, a small woodcut, and the conundrum, “ When is a door not 
a doorF” 

Ho !” said cook ; “ I suppose youke the ” 

“ That’s just what I am, my dear,” said the stranger, interrupt- 
ing her ; and my name’s Rowle. Introduced by Mr. Blakeford ; 
and just fetch me a light.” 

“ Which you’d bestfetch this gentleman a light. Master Antony,” 
said cook; ^^for I ain’t going to bemean myself.” 

As she spoke she made a sort of whirlwind in the hall, and 
whisked herself out of the place, slamming the door at the end 
quite loudly. 

Waxey !” said Mr. Rowle, looking hard at me, and shutting 
one eye in a peculiar way. “ Got a light, young un ? ” 

Yes,” I said, feeling sorry that cook should have been so rude 
to the visitor ; and as I hurried into the study to get a match out 
of the little bronze stand, and lit the curled-up wax taper that 
my father used to seal his particular letters, I found that Mr. 
Rowle had followed me, tucking little bits of tobacco in the pipe- 
bowl as he came. 


1 


2 


THE STOKY OP ANTONY GEACE. 


He then proceeded to looli about, stooped down and punched 
the big leather-covered chair, uttered a grunt, took the taper, lit 
his pipe, and began to smoke. 

“ Now then, squire,” he said, suppose you and I have a look 
round.” 

There was such a calm at-homeness about him that the thought 
struck me that he must somehow belong to the place now: and I 
gazed at him with a feeling akin to awe. 

He was a little man in a loose coat, and his face put me greatly 
in mind of the cover of a new spelling-book. He was dressed in 
black, and his tail-coat had an enormously high collar, which 
seemed to act as a screen to the back of his half-bald head when 
he sat down, as he did frequently, to try the different chairs or 
sofas. It never struck me that the coat might have been made 
for another man, but that he had had it shaped to come down to 
the tips of his fingers, and so keep him warm. When he had 
taken off his hat I had noticed that his hair lay in streaks across 
the top of his head, and the idea occurred to me that his name 
might be Jacob, because he was in other respects so smooth. 

I followed Mr. Rowle as he proceeded to have what he called 

a look round,” and this consisted in going from room to room, in 
every one of which he kept his hat on, and stood smoking as he 
gradually turned his eyes on everything it contained, ending with 
a grunt as of satisfaction at what he saw. 

Every room was taken in turn, even to the kitchen, where our 
entry caused a sudden cessation of the conversation round the tea- 
table, and the servants turned away their heads with a look of 
contempt. 

That’ll do,” said Mr. Rowle quietly ; theri, Mary, my dear, 
you can bring me my tea in the study.” 

No one answered, and as we went back I remember thinking 
that if Mr. Rowle was to be the new master at Cedar Hill he 
would soon send our old servants away. He walked back, smok- 
ing all the time, and seated himself in my father’s chair, staring 
hard at me the while. 

Shut the door, young un,” he said at last, and when I had 
obeyed, sit down, and make your miserable life happy.” 

My face began to work, and I had to battle hard to keep back 
the tears, as for a few minutes I could not speak, but sat there 
feeling sure Mr. Rowle must think me sulky and strange ; and it 
troubled me, for the old man seemed disposed to be kind. 

Poor boy!” he said all at once, and his voice seemed to me to 
come out of a cloud of smoke ; " so you’ve lost both your father 
and your mother ?” 

Yes, sir ! ” I said piteously. 

Hah ! S ') have I,” said Mr. Rowle, and he went on smoking. 

I was thinking as I tried to stare at him through the smoke, 


THE MAN IN POSSESSION. 


3 


that this must have been a very long* time ago, when he quite 
startled me by seeming to read my thoughts, as he said suddenly : 

“ Yes ; that’s a long time ago.” 

“ Yes, sir ; I thought it must be,” I ventrred to say ; and then 
there was a long silence, during which I sat there wanting to go 
away, but not daring to stir, lest Mr. Rowle should think me 
rude, and still he smoked on. 

“ I say, young un,” he exclaimed, making me start out of a 
reverie, in which I was thinking how vexed mamma would have 
been to see Mr. Rowle smoking in all the bedrooms, “ s’pose you’d 
just come here to stop, which room should you sleep in ? ” 

The blue room’s the biggest and the best, sir,” I said, “ but I 
like the little pink room the most.” 

Hah ! then the pink room it must be,” he said, sending out 
such a long puff of smoke that I wondered how his mouth could 
have held it aU. “ I say, young uu, ain’t it time Mary brought 
up my tea ? ” 

^'It’s pa^t tea-time ever so much,” I said, ^^and her name’s 
Jane.” 

He took hold of an old brass key hanging at the end of a thin 
steel chain, and dragged out a very big old silver watch, looked 
at it, shook it, and held it to his ear, and then lowered it down 
once more into its particular pocket. 

“Then Mary — Jane won’t bring it,” said Mr. Rowle. 

As he spoke the door opened, and Jane, our housemaid, ex-* 
claimed sharply, “Now, Master Antony, I want you;” and I rose 
and followed her into the dining-room, where my solitary tea was 
spread out for me. I stood gazing at it when she left me in a 
miserable dejected way, for I felt as if T could not eat, and as if 
the tea when I poured it out would be bitter and salt as my tears ; 
and then I began to think about Mr. Rowle, and stole to the door, 
opened it, and stood listening to the laughing and talking in the 
kitchen. 

“I wonder whether they will take Mr. Rowle his tea,” I 
thought ; and I leaned against the door, listening still, but there 
was no sign of any preparation. The strong smoke crept out into 
the hall, and in imagination I could see the little yellow man 
sitting back and smoking in the chair always used by my father. 

At last I summoned up my courage and Avent to the study door, 
opened it, and asked Mr. Rowle if he would come and have some 
tea. 

“ I will that I” he said with alacrity; “ I never despise my beer, 
but a cup o’ tea’s my reg’lar drink.” 

He followed me into the dining-room, and we sat down, I feel- 
ing very awkward, especially as Mr. Rowde leaned across, lifted 
the pot, and gave me his pecul'ar wink. 

“ Silver P ” he said. 


1—2 


4 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


^^Yes, sir; aud the coffee-pot and basin and jug too,” .1 
replied. 

Hah lyes.” 

It was very awkward, for there was only one teacup and saucer, 
and I did not like to ring for another ; so I filled that and passed 
it to Mr. Rowle, who sat smoking all the while. 

Thankye I ” he said, nodding ; and he was about to pour ii 
into the saucer when he stopped short. Hallo I ” he said, 
“ where’s your’n ? ” 

** I — I have not got another cup,” I stammered. 

Worse disasters at sea !” he said. “ Never mind ; look ye here, 
I’ll have the saucer and you have the cup,” and pouring out the 
tea, he passed me back the cup, and the meal went on. 

For the first time since his arrival Mr. Rowle laid down his 
pipe, and after hewing off a great piece of bread, he proceeded to 
cut it up in little cubes, all six sides of which he buttered before 
he ate them, while I contented myself with a modest slice or two, 
for my appetite was gone. 

It was a doleful meal, but he seemed to enjoy it, and after par- 
taking of five or six saucerfuls he nodded at me again, took up 
and refilled his pipe, and then walked back to the study, where ho 
sat smoking till ten o’clock, when he went up to bed. 

I’m afraid that I was a very ignorant boy. Perhaps not so in the 
ordinary sense of the word ignorant, for I had been fairly edu- 
cated, and besides being pretty forward with my Latin, I could 
have written a letter or carried on a decent conversation in 
French ; but, living in a secluded part of the country, I was very 
ignorant about the matters of ordinary every-day life, and I found 
it hard to understand how it was that Mr. Blakeford, the lawyer, 
should be allowed to do just as he pleased in our old house. 

The terrible misfortunes that had come, one after the other, 
had seemed to stun me and take away my breath. One day we 
seemed to be all so happy together, and I was sitting reading to 
my invalid mother in the pleasant old room opening on to the lawn. 
Aud the next day I was holding my throbbing head in my bed- 
room, after crying till it ached as if about to split, while I 
tried again and again to believe that it was all some dreadful 
dream, that my father had been carried home dead, killed in an 
instant by a fall from his horse, and that my mother lay beside 
him in the darkened room, silent too in death, for the shock had 
been too great for her delicate frame. 

All that followed seemed to me dream-like and strange — the 
darkened house and the rustling sounds of the black dresses that 
were made for the servants ; my own new black things and stiff 
black hat ; the terrible stillness of the place, and the awe with which 
I used to gaze at the closed room upstairs ; and lastly that 
dreadful darkest day when I was the companion of Mr. Blakeford 


THE MAH IN POSSESSION. 


5 


and an old uncle in the mourning- coach which followed the hearse 
with its nodding- plumes to the grave. 

I wanted to be alone and sit and think, hut those about me 
seemed to consider that it was their duty to try and comfort and 
cheer me in my affliction, when all they did was to worry me and 
make me more wretched than before. It troubled nae, too, ter- 
ribly, that people should think me callous and indifferent to my 
loss, when all the time my heart was throbbing, and I felt a sen- 
sation of desolation and misery that I tried my best to conceal. 

I remember going on tiptoe towards the dining-room on the day 
of the funeral, dreading lest my new boots should' make a noise, 
when, as I reached the mat at the door, I stopped short, for my 
uncle was saying roughly — ^ 

“Don’t seem to trouble him much.” 

“No, of course not,” Mr. Blakeford replied. “What can you 
expect .P I dare say he’s thinking more of his new black clothes.” 

I had to clench my hands and bite my lips to keep from burst- 
ing out into a passionate fit of weeping, and I stood there for 
some minutes, unable to move, as I heard all that was said. 

“ Well, it’s no business of mine,” said my uncle. “ It was his 
own money.” 

“Yes,” said Mr. P)lakeford, with a sigh. “I was his legal 
adviser, but he would not be advised.” 

“ Never would,” said my uncle. “ All he thought of was 
catching butterflies and drying weeds in blotting-paper.” 

“ But ho was a good man,” said IMr. Blakeford. 

Bah ! good ? What, to plunge into speculation and ruin him- 
self.?” 

“ We are none of us perfect,” said Mr. Blakeford. 

“ Who wants to be ? ’’ said my uncle. “ Well, I wash my hands 
of the whole affair. You know where I am if you want me. He 
was never like a brother to me. I will do as you said.” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Blakeford, “ of course. You may trust me, Mr. 
Grace.” 

“ I don’t trust anybody,” said my uncle, just as one of the 
servants, coming along the passage, said kindly — 

“ Wliy don’t you go in. Master Tony .? ” 

There was a sudden movement of a chair, and I saw Mr. 
Blakeford come forward and look at me curiously as I entered in 
a shamefaced way. Then he exchanged glances with my uncle, 
and my heart sank as I felt that they both suspected me of having 
been listening on the mat. 

It was only at nights when I was alone in my own room that I 
could cry as a half heart-broken boy of eleven can cry in the 
desolation of his heart. My uncle had gone aw^ay the day after 
the funerhx, telling me shortly that I must be a man now, and 
mind what Mr. Blakeford said ; and Mr. Blakeford had looked at 


6 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE, 


me in his peculiar way, tightening his thin lips, and smi^ 
strangely, hut saying nothing. 

I knew that some arrangements had been made about my futur 
hut though I was the person most concerned, every one seemed 
consider that I was only a boy, and no explanation was vouchsafed. 
So it was, then, that I rambled about the house and grounds al- 
most alone, growing more and more thoughtful and wretched as 
the change oppressed me like a weight of lead. 

As the days went on, though, and the first passionate feelings 
of grief gave way to a strange sense of despair, I began to take 
notice of what was passing around me. It seemed as if the ser- 
vants in their new black dresses looked upon the change as a 
holiday. They had frequent visitors^ there seemed to be always 
a kind of lunch in progress, and as I sat alone of an evening I 
could often hear laughter from the kitchen ; and at last, unable to 
hear the solitude, I used to go into the study and sit down and 
stare at Mr. Eowle. 

It was not cheerful, even there, for Mr. Howie used to sit and 
stare at me. We rarely spoke. Still, it was company, and the 
old man did sometimes give me a nod, and say, in allusion to a 
hurst of mirth from the kitchen — 

They’re keeping the game alive, young un I " 


CHAPTER II. 

MB. BOWLS AND I BECOME PBIENDS 

As I have said, in the days that followed, I used, when feeling 
very lonely, to go and sit and stare at Mr. Rowle and he at me. 
Few words were spoken, but quite a friendship sprang up between 
us, and by degrees I learned what his position really was — that of 
man in possession, placed there by Mr. Blakeford. 

Mr. Rowle was not an active busy man, but somehow he had a 
way with him that seemed to take charge of everything in the 
house. I verily believe that in a few moments he made a mental 
inventory of the contents of the room, and he quite offended 
J ane one morning by ringing the blue-room bell. 

I was with him at the time, and after the ring had been twice 
repeated, Jane came bouncing upstairs, and, quite ignoring the 
presence of Mr. Rowle, addressed herself sharply to me. 

I’m surprised at you. Master Antony, ringing the bells like 
that, knowing how busy I am. Whatever do you want ? ” 

It was me as rung, Jane, my dear,” said Mr. Rowle. “ What’s 
gone of those two little chayney candlesticks off this table ? ” 
^^I’ve took 'em down to clean, Master Antony, if you must 


MR. ROWLE AND I BECOME FRIENDS. 


7 


know,” said Jane, addressing me spitefully. “ You don’t suppose 
as I’ve took them away ? ” 

She looked at me angrily, while I felt as if I had been accusing 
her unjustly. 

“ Oh no, my dear, of course not ! ” said Mr. Rowle. “ You’re 
too highly respectable a girl to do such a thing ; but where I was 
once there was a housemaid as stole a little bronze pen-tray out of 
the study, and ohe was found out about it, and given into custody 
of the police, a nd got three months.” 

Jane looked fiercely at him and whisked out of the room. 

** Please, Mr, Rowle,” I said, “ the little pen-tray that mamma 
gave poor papa has — has ” 

I could say no more, for the recollection of that birthday present, 
towards which I had subscribed some of my pocket-money, caused 
such a choking sensation that I was ready to break down once 
more, and I had to strive hard to keep it back. 

Gone out of the study, young un ? Oh no, not it. You fancy 
as it has.” 

“ I’m sure it has gone, sir,” I said eagerly. “ I was looking for 
it yesterday.” 

“ Ah, well, you’ll see when we get downstairs,” said Mr. Rowle, 
and he went on from room to room, always sending a few puffs 
of smoke into each, till we went downstairs, meeting Jane on the 
way, looking very hot and indignant as she carried up the little 
china candlesticks, and sure enough, to my great surprise, on 
entering the siudy, there was the pen-tray in its familiar place. 

There ; what did I tell you P ” said Mr. Rowle, laughing. 

It was underneath some papers, or p’r aps Jane took it down to 
give it a rub or two.” 

That must have been it, sir,” I said ; and I went out to have 
a walk round the garden. But somehow everything looked so 
different: the grass had not been cut for days, the beds were 
rapidly growing weedy, and the flowers and fruit looked so 
different, or seemed to look so different, that I was glad to go 
back into the house, where I found another stranger, a little 
dapper, red-faced man, who nodded to me familiarly, and then 
resumed a conversation with Mr. Rowle. 

" My clerk will be here directly,” I beard him say, “ and we’ll 
sooJi run over the inventory.” 

^^The sooner the better, I say, Mr. Jevins, sir,” said Mr. Rowle, 

and then we shall know what we’re at.” 

You don’t mean ” began the newcomer. 

‘‘ No, sir, I don’t, because I’ve had too sharp a hye on ^em; but 
there’s one young lady here as wouldn’t take nothing out of her 
reach, and if I was Mr. Blakeford I’d make a clean sweep out, and 
the sooner the better.” 

The little man drew a silver pencil-case out of his pocket, slid 


8 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


out a pen, and then, taking a little ink-bottle from another pocket, 
be took out the cork and balanced it on the top of a china figure; 
then, securing the ink-bottle to one of the buttons of his coat by a 
little loop, he pulled out a long pocket-book, drew from it an 
elastic baud with a snap, opened it, and fastened the leaves back 
with the band, just as a tall, gaunt, elderly man came in with a 
pen behind one ear, a pencil behind the other, making him look m 
profile like some peculiar kind of horned snail. 

1 watched their acts with boyish interest as they proceeded 
methodically to set down the contents of room after room, punch- 
ing the chairs, turning up the settees, feeling the curtains, and 
tapping the mirrors, till at the end of the second day, all being 
done, they closed their books with a snap, nodded to me, and 
after a short chat with Mr. Howie took their departure. 

Sale’s on Toosday week,” said that gentleman as I looked at 
him inquiringly. What’s going to be done o’ you P ” 

Done with me ? ” I said. 

Yes ; where are you going to be ? ” 

** I’m going to stop here,” I said. 

*^That can’t be, anyhow, young un. Haven’t you got any 
friends P ” 

Yes,” I said ; '^there’s Dick Wilmot, but he’s at school.” 

" I say, young un, what a precious innocent you are I Haven’t 
you never been away at school ? ” 

No, sir.” 

" Where have you been, then ? ” 

Here at home with papa and mamma.” 

Lor’, what a shame, to be sure ! Why, you don’t seem to know 
nothin’.” 

_ “ Indeed I do,” I said indignantly. “ I can read, and write, and 
cipher, and I know a little botany, and Latin, and French, and 
papa was teaching me the violin.” 

What, the fiddle ? Well, that may be some use to you ; but 
as for t’others, bah ! I never found the want of any on ’em. How 
old are you P ” 

“ Just turned eleven, sir.” 

** ’Leven, and bless your ’art, young un, you’re about as innocent 
as a baby.” 

“ If you please, sir, I’m very sorry.” 

“ Sorry P So am I. Why, up in London I’ve seen boys of ’leven 
as was reg’lar old men, and know’d a’most everything. Lookye 
here, young un, don’t you know as your poor guv’nor died ever so 
much in debt through some bank breaking P ” 

heard poor papa say that the bank had shut its doors.” 

* That’s right,” said Mr. Howie, nodding. Well, young un, 
and don’t you know what that means for you ? ” 

** No, sir,” I said. 


MR. BLAKEFORD SHOWS HIS TEETH. 


D 

'^'Pliewl” replied Mr. Rowle, whistling; “well, pVaps it^s 
kindest to tell you, after all. Why, look here, young un, this 
place, with every stick in it, is going to be sold up — plate, linen, 
furniture, chayney, glass, and the house and all, and you’ll have to 
go to some of your friends, unless Mr. Biakeford’s got his plans 
made for you.” 

“ Please, sir, I don’t think I’ve got any friends to go to,” I said ; 

I thought I was going to stay at home — at least, I hoped so,” I 
added despondently. 

“ It’s a rum go,” muttered Mr. Rowle, as he raised his hat with 
one hand and rearranged his hair with the stem of his pipe. “ Ah, 
well, I s’pose I’ve no call to he putting things into your head, only 
I should like to see you not quite so innocent, and better able 
to look after yourself.” 

Mr. Rowle and I had many such conversations during the 
interval before the sale, in all of which he was so much troubled 
by what he called my innocence, that I began to look upon my 
ignorance of the world as something approaching a crime. I saw 
no more of Mr. Blakeford or my uncle, and the days glided slowly 
by till just before the sale, when the servants came upoi^me one 
evening in the dining-room, to announce that they were going, 
and to say “ good-bye.” 

“ Going ! ” I said “ what, all ? ” 

“Yes,” said cook sharply, and 1 think there was a twinkle of 
moisture in her eyes ; “ yes, Master Antony, were all going, and 
we’ve come to say good-bye.” 

I believe that cook would have taken me in her arms and 
hugged me in good motherly fashion, but for the third person. 
As it was, she shook hands very warmly and looked tenderly at 
me for a moment — not more — for her soul seemed to be aroused 
within her at the presence of Mr. Rowle, at whom she darted the 
most furious of glances, an example followed by the other two 
maids ; and then we were alone. 

“ Bless ’em I ” said Mr^ Rowle, taking his pipe for a moment 
fr^m his lips, and then going on smoking. 


CHAPTER in. 

MU. BLAKEFORD SHOWS HIS TEETH. 

a’he morning of the sale arrived, and still no one took any notice 
of me. I had stood by in a melancholy fashion, and seen little 
tickets pasted or tied upon the various articles of furniture; the 
stair rods done up in bundles and the carpets in rolls. The 
chimney ornaments seemed to be holding a meeting in a corner of 


10 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


the sideboard recess, presided over by a bronze Neptune ; and 
apparently deceived by the reflection of the sunshine, the steel 
fender had settled itself calmly on a table before the tall pier- 
glass as if it were a fire ; the pictures looked down in the most 
melancholy way from the walls at the doleful chaos of furniture, 
all except one of her Majesty the Queen, and that seemed to follow 
me in a sorrowful, pitying fashion that made me gaze up at it again 
and again. 

W earied with wandering from room to room — all dust and con*- 
fusion now — I turned to go upstairs. As I did so I passed the 
study, whose door was wide open, with Mr. Kowle in the easy- 
chair smoking away, his hat on, and the wretchedness of the place 
with its piled-up bundles of books seeming to have no effect upon 
him whatever. 

Upstairs matters appeared even worse, though it struck me that 
the rooms were not so dusty. After the " view ” on the previous 
day the auctioneer’s men had arranged the things so that they 
would be handy for taking downstairs, and the grotesque positions 
they were now in suggested endless ideas. Pairs of sheets and 
blanket^ hung from pegs like so many culprits ; towel-horses stood 
upon their heads, while chairs did acrobatic tricks, one at the 
bottom sustaining four or five piled up in a state of equilibrium ; 
the tooth-brush trays all seemed to have been frightened into 
taking refuge in the ewers ; while the bedsteads and toilet-tables 
appeared to think the place so dirty and untidy that they were 
holding up their trailing garments to keep them from being soiled. 

On the previous day I had taken refuge in my favourite haunt, 
the summer-house, till the strangers had gone, and now, hearing 
the auctioneer’s men below, I was hurriedly taking a farewefi 
glance round before once more making my retreat. 

I had heard footsteps on the stairs, and supposed it to be one of 
the owners of the carpet-caps and aprons that lay tucked in a 
corner, when suddenly passing out of one of the bedrooms into the 
passage I came face to face with Mr. Blakeford. 

“ Oh ! you’re there, are you ? ” he said, in quite an ill-used tone, 
as if he had been hunting for me for days. Why, where have 
you been hiding yourself ? ” 

" Please, sir, Iwe been here all the time.” 

“ It’s false, sir. How dare you tell me such a lie ! I was 
hunting for you all day yesterday and you were not here. I sup- 
posed you had run awav.” 

“ If you please, sir,” I said, I was in the summer-house — 
indeed ! ” 

“ Then how dare you tell me, sir, that you were here 1 Now 
look here. Master Antony Grace ; don’t you try to trifle with me, 
for I’m not the man to be played with. You've been allowed do 
grow up in sloth, ignorance, and idleness ; and sow that out of 


MR. BLAKEEORD SHOWS HIS TEETH. 


11 


pare charity I am going to take you into my office, you had better 
try to make yourself of some use, unless you want to be turned 
adrift and starved ; ” and he bent down and shook his finger in my 
face. 

“ Come to your office, sir ? ” I cried, wondering. 

Come to my office, sir, yes,” he snarled. “ What else were you 
going to do ? Did you think you were going to spend your life 
sticking pins through butterflies and running about picking butter- 
I daisies, as you did with your defrauding scoundrel of a 
f.lher?” 

•• iiovv dare you say that! ” I cried, as a fierce burst of passion 
swept over me at hearing him speak thus of my poor dead father. 

I have some recollection of rvsjjiing at him with clenched fists, 
•■and being caught roughly by a strong hand, of being shaken, my 
ears sharply boxed, and of being then thrown panting, sobbing, 
and half heart-broken upon the floor, as Mr. Blakeford stood over 
n •• 

•• That’s your temper, is it, you young dog.^” he cried; “but 
I’ll soon tame that dovin. What, am I to lose thousands of pounds 
by your cheating scoundrel of a father, and then, when to save his 
wretched brat from starvation I have arranged to give him a home, 
I am to have him turn and rend me ? But I’ll soon cure all that, 
my fine fellow. You’ve got the wrong man to deal with, and it 
was quite time your career of spoiled child was over.” 

He turned and left the room, and after crouching there sobbing 
for a few minutes, I got up in a stunned, hopeless way, brushed 
the dust off my clothes, and as I turned I caught a glimpse of my 
hot red face and wet eyes in the glass. 

I was hastily removing the traces of the childish tears when I 
smelt the pungent odour of tobacco, and my first impulse was to 
run away and hide ; but there was no way of escape, and I had to 
turn round and face Mr. Kowle, who stood smoking in the door- 
way. 

“ What’s he been leathering you for ? ” he said, without remov- 
ing his pipe. 

“ I — I struck him ! ” I panted out, trembling with shame and 
ndignation. 

“ You ? You hit Lawyer Blakeford ? ” he said, with a broad 
grin overspreading his face. “Come, I like that. I didn’t think 
there was so much stuff in you.” 

“ He — he — said false things about my poor dead father,” 1 
faltered. 

“ And you tried to punch his head for it, young ’un ; and serve 
him right, that’s what I say. Never mind : cheer up, young un ; 
you’ll grow a man some day, see if you don’t. But, 1 say, look 
here, where are you going to stay ? The house’ll be full of people 
directly.” 


12 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Fm — Fm to go to Mr. Blakeford — to his office, he says.” 

“ Whee-ew ! ” whistled Mr. Rowle. “ That’s it, is it ? Your 
guv’nor owed him money, eh, and he’s going to take it out of you P 
I say, young un, you’re in for it.” 

Am I, sir ? ” I said, in a dull, despairing way, for I understood 
by his words that my future was not to be a very pleasant one, 
but just then I heard Mr. Blakeford’s voice below, and Mr. Rowle 
gave me a friendly nod and turned away, while I stood listening, 
expecting to be called. 

I can recall those feelings that came over me to this day — shame, 
mortification, wounded pride, misery, and despair. What was to 
become of me P How could I ever live with a man who spoke so 
cruelly of one who had always been so firm and yet so gentle with 
me ? No mother, no father, no one to say one kind and encourag-, 
ing word to me but that poor rough man in possession, towards 
whom in those hours of misery my young heart went out with all 
its passion of childlike affection. 

I was half stunned. Had I been so idle and spoiled a boy P I did 
not know, only that I had been very happy — that every lesson had 
been a pleasure, and those summer-day entomological and botanical 
rambles with my father times of joy and delight. It was all a 
puzzle, too, about my father and Mr. Blakeford and their money 
matters, and of course I was too young to comprehend the legal 
instruments which empowered the solicitor to take possession of 
everything of which my father died possessed. 

The entry of one of the porters made me creep hurriedly away, 
and going downstairs, 1 found room after room filling with the 
people coming to the sale, with the result that I crept into the 
garden and dowm the old laurel walk to the little summer-house at 
the bottom, where I shut myself in to lean my head against my 
arm and try to check the miserable tears that would come. 

It was very weak and girlish, but I was only eleven, and during 
the past few days there had been so much to give me pain. I was 
heartily ashamed of my weakness, feeling all the time a kind of 
instinct that I ought to be more manly, and trying hard to become 
80, though now I can smile at the thought of the little, slight boy 
of eleven battling with his natural emotions, and striving to school 
them to his will. 

It was very quiet and lonely down there, and in a few minutes 
I felt calmer and better, seating myself and wondering whether I 
ought not to go up and look for Mr. Blakeford, as I watched the 
robin — an old friend of mine — hopping about amongst the twigs. 

Perhaps it was a foolish idea, but it seemed to me then as if 
that bird, as it gazed at me with its large round eyes, could feel 
for my sorrow, and I felt a kind of envy of the little thing’s 
freedom from pain and care. 

Wliile 1 sat there thinking in my despondent way, the low 


MB. BLAKEFOBD SHOWS HIS TEETH. 


18 


humming of voices up at the house came to me, and now and then 
I could hear steps on the gravel paths, but that leading up to the 
summer-house was of short turf, so that I was suddenly surprised 
by hearing a fresh young voice exclaim : 

** Oh, look here, mamma ! What a nice summer-house ! * 

“Yes, my dear,” said some one, in cold, harsh tones. “The 
Graces knew pretty well how to take care of themselves. I haven’t 
patience with such ways.” 

I jumped up angrily to go away, but I was too late, for the door 
opened suddenly, and I was face to face with a young girl of 
about my own age, and a tall thin lady, with a careworn, ill-used 
expression of countenance ; and as she seemed to know who I was, 
she caught the girl’s arm and gave her a snatch, exclaiming : 

“ Come away, Hetty; it’s young Grace.” 

The girl took her eyes unwillingly from mine, and as she accom- 
panied the lady away, she turned round once, and I fancied I read 
in her looks sorrow for my position, and a desire to come and lay 
her little hand in mine. 

I sat all through that dreary day alone, and getting faint and 
hungry — though my memories of my encounter with Mr. Blake- 
ford kept me from thinking much about the latter, and it must 
have been nearly five o’clock when the door once more opened, and 
Mr, Rowle stood there, holding a bundle tied up in a red hand- 
kerchief in one hand, his pipe in the other. 

“ Why, here you are then, young ’uu,” he said. “ I thought old 
Blakeford had carried you oil. Lookye here I you’re just right. 
I’m going to have a bit of wittles down here in peace, and you’U 
join in.” 

As he unfastened the bundle handkerchief and displayed a pork 
pie and a small loaf, he took a couple of table-knives from his tail 
pocket. 

“ Borrowed,” he said, holding them up. “ They’re a part of lot 
hundred and forty-seven. Stop a moment, let’s make sure.” 

One hand dived into the breast-pocket of his old coat to bring 
out a dirty catalogue, leaf after leaf of which he turned over, and 
then, running a dirty thumb down one page he read out : 

“Lot hundred and forty-seven: sixteen black No, that 

ain’t it. Here it is, young ’un. Lot hundred and fifti/sexeu : 
two dozen and seven ivory balance-handle knives. Them’s them, 
and they won’t be none the worse for my using on ’em.” 

Mr. Bowie’s intentions were most friendly, but I could hardly 
eat a mouthful, and I was sitting wntching him making heavy 
onslaughts upon the loaf when I heard Mr. Blakeford’s voice calL 
ing me, and I started up, feeling as if I must run away. 

“ What are you up to ? ” said Mr. Rowle, with his mouth full. 

“ Let me go,” I cried excitedly. “ Let me run somewhere.” 

“ Gammon 1 W^hy, what for? You go out like a man and 


14 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


meet him, and if he gives it to you again, why , there, if I 

was you I’d take it like a man, that I would.” 

I hesitated' for a moment, and then took my rough friend’s 
advice by going out into the garden, where I found Mr. Blakeford 
with a black bag in his hand. 

^^Take that,” he said harshly, and threw the bag towards me. 

I was taken by surprise, caught at and dropped the bag, which 
burst open, and a number of papers tied with red tape fell out. 

Bah ! you clumsy oaf,” he exclaimed angrily. There, pick 
them up.” 

I hastily stooped, gathered them together, and tremblingly re- 
placed the packets in the bag, and as soon as it was closed fol- 
lowed my new master towards the gate, through which he passed 
to where a man was holding a thin pony attached to a shabby 
four-wheeled chaise. 

“Jump up behind,” he said; and I climbed into the back-seat, 
while he took the reins, got into the front, and fumbled in one 
pocket. “ Here, catch ! ” he cried to the man, as he gave the reins 
A shake. The pony started off, and we had not gone a dozen 
yards before something hard hit me in the back, and turning 
sharply, I saw one of the big old-fashioned penny-pieces fall into 
the road, while the man who had thrown it after us was making 
a derisive gesture at Mr. Blakeford, by which I concluded that he 
was dissatisfied with the amount that had been given him. 

“ Sold badly, very badly,” Mr. Blakeford kept muttering, and 
at every word he gave the reins a jerk which made the pony throw 
up its head ; and so he kept on muttering during our four-miles 
ride into the town, when he drove into a little yard where a 
rough-looking man was waiting, threw him the reins, and then 
turned to me. 

“ Jump down, and bring that bag.” 

I jumped down, and as I did so leaped aside, for a large dog 
rushed out to the full extent of his chain and stood baying at me, 
till Mr. Blakeford gave him a kick, and he disappeared into a 
kennel that had once been green. I followed the lawyer through 
a side door and into a blank-looking office cut in two by a w^ooden 
partition topped with little rails, over which hung old and new 
posting-bills, many of which papered the wall, so that look which 
way I would my eye rested on, “ To be sold by auction,” “ Estate,” 
or “ Property,” in big black letters. 

On one side of the partition were a high double desk and a 
couple of tall stools ; on the other some cocoa-nut matting, a table 
covered with papers, a number of shelves on which stood black- 
japanned boxes, each of whicli had upon it somebody’s name or 
cnly initials in white letters, with perhaps the word “Exors.” 
after them; while on the chimney-piece were a letter-weigher, two 
or three large ink-bottles, and a bundle of (^uill pens. 


MR. BLAKEFORD SHOWS HLS TEETH. 


15 


It was growing dusk, and Mr. Blakeford struck a match and lit 
a gas-jet over the fireplace, just in front of a yellow-looking 
almanack ; and now I could see that the place was one litter of 
papers, parchments, and dust, save at the end, which was occupied 
by a bookcase full of great volumes all bound in leather about the 
colour of Mr. Howie’s skin. 

“Sit down there,” he said shortly, and he pointed to one of the 
tall stools by the great desk ; and as I climbed upon it he picked 
up the bag I had placed upon the desk, threw it upon the table, 
and walked out of the place. 

“ Like a man — take it like a man,” I said to myself as I recalled 
Mr. Howie’s words ; and, pressing my teeth tightly and clenching 
my fists, I sat there fighting down the depressing feelings that 
came upon me in a flood, and wondering what I should have to do. 

My musings were interrupted by the loud entry at the end of 
about half an hour of a cross-looking servant-girl, who banged a 
small tray containing a mug and a plate of bread and butter down 
before me. 

“ There’s your tea,” she said roughly ; “ and look here, I’m not 
going to wait on you. Bring the mug to the kitchen when you’ve 
done, and you’ll have to fetch it in future.” 

I looked up at her very wistfully as she scowled at me, but 1 
did not speak. 

“ SuUfy, eh ? ” she said. “ You’ll soon get that taken out of you 
here, 1 can tell you.” 

With these words she whisked herself out of the office, the 
swing-door creaked dismally and banged behind her, and I was 
left to enjoy my meal. 

At first I felt that I could not touch it, but I was faint and 
hungry, and after a few mouthfuls a boy’s young healthy appetite 
asserted itself, and I drank all the mean thin tea and finished the 
bread and butter. 

Then I remembered that I was to take the things back to the 
kitchen. Where was the kitchen, and dare I leave that stool 
without Mr. Blakeford’s orders ? 

I felt that I dare not, and therefore sat there patiently gazing 
about the room, ray eyes resting longest on those bills which told 
of sales of furniture, as I wondered whether those who had 
belonged to the furniture had died and left a son alone in the 
world, as I seemed to be just then. 

There was a clock, I found, in one comer — an old Dutch clock 
— that ticked away in a very silent, reserved fashion, giving 
further every hour a curious running-down noise, as if it were 
about to strike; but though I watched it patiently as the 
minute-hand passed on, it never fulfilled the expectations given, 
but confined itself to its soft subdued iick^ tick, tick, tick, hour 
after hour. 


16 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Seven, eight, nine, ten had been marked off by that clock, and 
still I sat there, waiting, and wondering whether I was to sleep 
there as well as to have my meals ; and then I heard a door bang, 
the sound of a footstep, and with a great tin candlestick in his 
hand Mr. Blakeford entered the room. 


CHAPTER IV. 

1 BECOME A lawyer’s CLERK. 

“This way I” he said abruptly, and there was a curious look in 
his face that I could not understand. “Here, hold this,” he 
cried, thrusting the candlestick into my hand ; and I held it 
trembling as he crossed unsteadily to the gas-jet, turned it down, 
and then strode out of the office. 

“ There ! ” he said, opening a door, “up there ; and get down 
in good time. You’ll have to cleanme boots and things.” 

“ Up there ” was up a flight of steps which led into a low 
sloping-ceiled chamber that had been evidently meant for a 
lumber-room, but had now been fitted up with an old stump 
bedstead with a coloured counterpane, a little corner washstand 
with a cracked jug, a strip of carpet, and a three-legged painted 
chest of drawers, which had gone down at one corner, and left a 
corresponding leg slightly raised in the air. 

The place was cold and miserable, chilling to a degree, but it 
was clean ; and as I looked round I was surprised by seeing on a 
chair a heap of my clothes and a brush and comb. 

I had just finished looking round when I heard a noise below. 

“You Antony ! ” shouted Mr. Blakeford ; mind you put that 
candle out safely, and look sharp into bed.” 

I obeyed by hastily undressing and putting out the candle to 
get quickly into bed. It was not to lie down, but, after once 
more battling with my weakness, to offer up the simple prayers I 
had been taught, and then, still upon my knees, but with my head 
drooping on to the pillow, falling fast asleep. 

I awoke terribly depressed at daybreak, to listen to some noisy 
fowls close by, and then I could hear that the rain was pattering 
heavily down. 

Ought I to get up then, or should I lie a little longer P I 
could not tell, but I recollected Mr. Blakeford’s words, and as I 
did so the same wretched despondent feeling came over me as I 
thought of my helplessness, and trembled, feeling sure I should 
give offence. 

There are few people who thoroughly realize the sufferings of 
a tenderly nurtured, sensitive boy when first called upon to battle 


I BECOME A LAWYER’S CLERK. 


17 


with the world amongst unsympathizing strangers. He is only a 
boy in their eyes, and they fail to give him credit for the same 
feelings as themselves, when too often he is far more finely 
strung, and suffers acutely from every unkind word and look. 
The very act of going from home is distressing enough, hut when 
it is supplemented hy his finding himself forced to make his first 
essays in some uncongenial task to which his hands and the brain 
that should guide are totally unaccustomed, a feeling of despair 
often takes possession of his young spirit, and is accompanied by 
a hopeless despondency that is long before it wears away. 

I had had painful afflictions enough during the past weeks, so 
that I was anything but well prepared for my new life. Besides, 
I had been badly fed, and the natural sinking caused by the want 
of proper food terribly augmented my sense of misery. 

The rain pattered down on the slates and skylight, while the 
water ran along the gutter and gurgled strangely in a pipe close 
to the corner where my bed was placed, as I lay wondering what 
1 had better do. The office was below me, with its silent clock, 
but perhaps I should not be doing right, I thought, if I got up 
and went down to see the time. Perhaps, too, the place might 
be locked up. 

I Jay thinking in this undecided way till all my doubts were 
set "ide, for there was a loud continuous ringing just outside my 
door, one which was kept up as if some angry person were sawing 
away at the wire with the full inteution of dragging it down. 

It agonized me as I jumped out of bed and began hastily to 
dress, for I felt as if it must be to rouse me up, and as if 1 had 
inadvertently been guilty of some lapse. 

The bell stopped ringing as suddenly as it had begun, and with 
a feeling of relief I continued dressing, but only to start nervously 
as I heard Mr. Blakeford’s voice at the foot of the stairs shouting 
my name. 

“ Do you hear that bell, sir ? ” he cried. 

Yes, sir.” 

Then malre haste down ; don’t be all the morning dressing.” 

Then there was the loud banging of a door, and I hastily 
finished, and went down cautiously, found the office door at the 
end of the dim passage, and was just going in when the sharp 
Voice of the servant arrested me. 

“ Here, you — what’s your name ? ” she said harshly. 

Antony, ma’am.” 

“ Ho 1 Then, Mister Antony, missus says you’re to make 
yourself useful. They’ve pretty well worked the flesh off my 
fvones since I’ve been here, so you must just help to put a little 

I looked &t her in amazement, and she certainly was not at all 
^'/•possessii^, being a tail raw-boned woman of some three or four 

8 


18 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


and twenty, in a hastily-put-on cotton dress, lier hair rough and 
untidy, and displaying a general aspect of having spent as little 
time as possible upon her toilet. 

Now, then, don’t stand staring like that ! ” she said. Come 
along here, and fill this scuttle.” 

She led the way into the kitchen and pointed to a large coal- 
scuttle, which I had to take and fill for her, after which she 
seemed to hesitate as to whether she should place the broom 
she held in my hands ; but, probably under the impression that 
it would save her no trouble, she altered her mind, and went 
and fetched a large pair of dirty Wellington boots, which she 
threw down upon the floor. 

There, go into that shed and clean them and your own too, 
and mind you do ’em well,” she cried. He’s a reg’lar wunner 
about his boots.” 

My experience in boot-cleaning consisted in having seen the 
groom at home occasionally polish a pah, so I was no adept : but 
hastily setting to, I worked hard at the task, and succeeded 
indifferently well with the big Wellingtons before bestowing the 
same pains upon my own shoes. 

I need hardly say that I was not very quick over my task, and 
so it happened that when I returned to the kitchen the fire was 
brightly burning, the kettle boiling, and my new friend, or 
enemy, seated at her breakfast. 

" There, you can put ’em down,” she said, with her mouth full 
of bread and butter. “And now you’d best go and wait in the 
orfice till he comes. You’re too much of a gent, I s’pose, to have 
meals with me ? ” 

“ I’m sure I don’t know,” I said, rather piteously. 

“Don’t you? Well, then, I do. You’re to have your victuals 
in the orfice, and I s’pose they’ll send some out to you when 
they’re done, seeing as you’re took here out o’ charity.” 

I felt a red spot burn in each cheek at these words, but I said 
nothing, only went sadly to the ( fiice, which looked terribly dim 
and gloomy in the morning light. The dust lay thick upon bill 
and parchment, and the drab books with their red patches upon 
their backs I could see by this light were old, discoloured, and worn. 

Judging from the appearance of the place, in spite of the ink 
marks and well-stained blotting-paper, there was not much work 
carried on there, though, of course, I could not judge that then. 
All that struck me was that the place looked most melancholy, 
and that a gloomy yew-tree that half shaded one window wag 
heavily laden with drops of rain. 

Seeing my mug and plate upon the big desk, I remembered the 
words of the servant, and hastened to take them to the kitchen, 
where I was received with a scowl, and hastened to retreat baci 

the office. 


I BECOME A LAWYEE’S CLERK. 


19 


I had been standing there about an hour, and had just noticed 
that the clock pointed to half-past eight, when I heard a light step 
behind me, and, turning round, there stood the girl I had seen in 
the garden at home. 

Her bright, fresh young face was the first pleasant thing upon 
which my eyes had rested since I came the night before, and as 
we stood gazing at each other it seemed to me that I could read 
sympathy and welcome in her frank smile. 

Good morning,” she said quietly, and held out her hand,' 
which I was in the act of taking, when a wii*y sharp voice cried 
loudly — 

“ Hetty I Hetty ! where are you ? ” 

** Here, mamma,” cried my visitor. 

Then you’ve no business there,” cried the same voice ; and 
the owner — to wit, the lady I had seen in the garden — came in. 

Go back to the parlour directly, miss ; and mind this, you are 
never to come in here at all.” 

The girl looked eagerly at me again, nodded, and tripped 
away, leaving a hopeful feeling behind that I could not 
explain. 

“ So you are young Grace,” said the lady, whom I presumed to 
be Mrs. Blakeford, and I gazed wonderingly at her pained 
wrinkled face and weak-looking, wandering eyes. Mind this : 
you are to keep in the office. I won’t have you in my rooms ; 
and Mr. Blakeford says you r'*e not to be in the kitchen on account 
of the neighbours’ remarks. I’m sure I don’t know why we study 
people who never study us; and I’m pinched enough for money 
now, without having you thrown on to my housekeeping.” 

Now then, what are you doing there ? ” cried Mr. IBlakeford 
harshly, as he entered in his slippers. Go and make the tea ; 
what do you want to begin chattering to that boy for about our 
private affairs ? ” 

Mrs. Blakeford muttered something about being always wrong, 
and turned to go. 

Always wrong ? Of course you are, when you will come 
meddling with what don’t concern you. Now then,” he cried, 
turning sharply round to me, “ what are you staring at ? Get 
a cloth and rub down that desk and table. Can’t you see how 
dusty they are ? ” 

" Yes, sir,” I said, for it was very evident. 

" Then why don’t you go and do it, blockhead ? ” 

I started to perform the task in great alarm ; but I had no 
duster, and dared not ask him. Fortunately he was called away 
just then to his breakfast; but he seemed to me to be there 
still, gazing at me with his keen dark eyes, while his tightly 
close(fthin lips seemed as if they were about to be drawn aside to 
bite* 


2-2 


20 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


As soon as I was alone I stole into the kitchen to ask for 
a duster. 

“Don’t bother me ; can’t you see I’m making toast?” was my 
greeting. 

I could see she was making toast, and my attention was further 
called to it by the sharp ringing of a bell. 

“Ah, ring away,” said the woman, going on with her task. 
“ You may ring the bell down, and then I shan’t come till the 
toast’s done. So now then ! ” 

“ Please, Mary, is the ” 

I turned upon hearing the pleasant little voice again, which 
stopped short as I looked round, and our eyes met once more. 

“No, Miss Hetty, my dear, the toast ain’t done,” said the 
woman more softly ; “ and you may tell your ma that if she is in 
a hurry she must wait till her hurry’s over.” 

“ Don’t be cross, Mary,”- said the child ; and tripping across the 
kitchen, she ran up to where the woman was kneeling before the 
fender, kissed her cheek, and tripped out again. 

“ They may thank her for it, that they may,” grumbled Mary, 
as if speaking to the fire, “ for if it wasn’t for her I wouldn’t stop 
a day longer in their nasty, disagreeable old house. There ! ” 

The toast was by this time done, and Mary was scraping away 
at a burnt spot, when the bell began to ring more violently than 
before, with the result that, instead of running off with the toast, 
Mary deliberately placed it upon the fender and went across 
to one of the dresser drawers, out of which she took a clean 
duster. 

“ Ring away! ” she grumbled. “ There’s a duster for you, boy. 
And look here; you must be hungry. Stop a minute and I’ll cut 
you a slice. Ah, ring away ! You don’t frighten me.’’ 

To my horror, she coolly spread thickly a slice of bread, cut it, 
and handed it to me before buttering the toast with which she at 
last crawled out of the kitchen, while I literally fled to the office, 
laid the bread and butter on the desk, and stopped to listen. 

At the end of half an hour the bell rang again, and soon after 
Mary came sulkily into the office with a mug of half-cold weak 
tea and some lumps, not slices, of bread and butter. These she 
thrust before me, and I was sadly making my breakfast when Mr. 
Blakeford entered the place. 

“ Come, make haste ! ” he said sharply ; and as I glanced up at 
him I read in his face that for some reason or another he had 
taken a great dislike to me. I could not tell then, nor did I know 
for long afterwards, why this was ; but it grew more evident 
hour by hour that he hated the sight of my anxious young face, 
and that my sojourn with him was to be far from pleasant. 

He took bis seat at the table while I tried to finish my break- 
fast, but his coming had completely taken away my appetite, and 


I BECOME A LAWYER’S CLERK. 


21 


at the end of a few minutes I hastened to take the mug and plate 
to the kitchen, and then returned to the office. 

“ Now, sir,” Mr. Blakeford began, “ just look here. Your 
father owed me a large sum of money wlien he died, and 1 have 
taken you on here quite out of compassion. Do you hear ? ” 

“Yes, sir,” I faltered. 

“ Well, you’ve got to learn to be of use to me as soon as you 
can. You can write, I suppose ? ” 

“ Y'es, sir — not very well,” I faltered. 

“ Of course you can’t. No boy brought up as you have been, 
without going to a school, could be expected to write a decent hand. 
But look here, you’ll have to try and write well ; so take that 
paper to the desk and copy it out in a neat round hand.” 

1 took the paper with trembling hands, climbed to the desk, 
spread the sheet of foolscap ready upon a big piece of blotting- 
paper, and took up one of the pens before me. 

Those were the days before steel nibs had become common, 
and the pen I took was a quill split up and spoiled. 

I took another and another, but they were all the same ; and 
then, glancing at the inkstand, I found that it was dry. 

I hardly dared to do it, but he glanced up at me to see if I had 
begun, and I ventured to say that there was neither pen nor ink. 

“ Of course not, blockhead. Get down and fetch some off the 
chimney-piece.” 

I gladly obeyed ; and then, resuming my seat, with the words 
on tlie paper dancing before my eyes, made my first essay as 
Mr. Blakeford’s clerk. 

The writing before me was not very distinct, but 1 managed 
to decipher it pretty well, getting a little puzzled as to the mean- 
ing of “ ads.” and “ exors.,” with various other legal contrac- 
tions, but after the first line or two going steadily on, for, bad as 
my education had been, I was able to write a boy’s neat round 
hand, consequent upon often copying out lists for my father, or 
names to label the collections we made. 

I had been writing about half an hour, working away diligently 
enough, when I heard the chair on the other side of the partition 
scroop, and Mr. Blakeford came up behind me. I fully expected 
a severe scolding or a blow when he took up my sheet of foolscap 
and scanned it over, but he threw it down before me again with a 
grunt. 

Soon afterwards he rose and went out, leaving me busy over 
my task, writing till I grew giddy and my head began to 
ache. 

About the middle of the day Mary came in with some bread 
and meat ; and about six o’clock there was another mug of thin 
tea and some pieces of bread and butter. Then the night came 
on, the gas was lighted, and I finished my first day in what 


22 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


seemed to be, and really was, as I look back upon it now, little 
better than a prison. 

The days crept slowly by as I took my place each morning at 
the desk, lindiiig always something fresh to copy in a neat round 
hand, and at this I patiently toiled on, with my old griefs grow- 
ing more dull as a little hope began to arise that I might soon 
see little Hetty to speak to again ; but though from time to time 
I heard the voice and the sound of a piano upon which some one 
was industriously practising, she never came near the office. 

Mr. Blakeford seemed as brutal to everyone in the house as he 
was to me. The only person who did not seem afraid of him was 
Mary, and upon her his angry scoldings had no effect whatever. 
To me she was harsh and uncouth as on my first arrival, but, 
seeing that the amount given me for my meals was disgracefully 
small, after the first week she did take care that I had a suffi- 
ciency of food, although it only took one form. 

I remember upon one occasion, having to go to the kitchen 
door, and finding her muttering angrily to herself, while upon 
seeing me she exclaimed: 

They’ve been going on about too much butter being used 
again. Come here ! ” 

I went closer to her, and she hurried into the larder, and came 
out with a roll of fresh butter and a new loaf, cutting off a thick 
piece and plastering it excessively with butter. 

“ There !” she exclaimed, you go back into the office, and 
don’t you show your face here again until you’ve eaten up 
every scrap of that. I’ll teach ’em to grumble about the 
butter.” 

From that day forward Mary was always cutting me great 
slices of new bread -and thickly spreading them with butter. 

There,” she used to say ungraciously, I don’t like boys, but 
they shan’t half-starve you while I’m here.” 

I was so moved by her unexpected kindness — for it really was 
done out of goodness of heart — that, having become somewhat 
hardened to being a confederate in this unlawful acquisition of 
provender, on one occasion I threw my arms round her neck and 
kissed her. 

Why, you impudent young scamp, what d’yer mean ? ” she 
exclaimed, in astonishment. 

Please, Mary,” I said, I didn’t mean to be impudent ; it was 
because you were so good to me.” 

Good ? Stuff !” she said roughly, I’m not good. There, get 
along wdth you, and don’t you do that again.” 

I certainly should have run a good chance of being half-starved 
but for Mary and another friend. 

One day when I opened my desk, I found just inside it a plate 
With an appetising piece of pudding therein, and concluded that 


MR. BL^VKEPORD SUPPERS, AND I CATCH THE ECHO. 23 


it was Mary’s doing; but I could not be sure, for her benevolence 
always took the form of thick slices of bread and butter. 

The next day there was a piece of cake ; another day some 
apples; another, a couple of tartlets ; and at last I determined to 
hide and see who was the donor of these presents, so welcome to 
a growing boy. I had made up my mind at last that they came 
from Hetty, and I wms right ; for going inside the large paper 
cupboard one day, instead of going out to fetch the newspaper 
according to custom, this being one of my new duties, I saw the 
office door gently open and Hetty’s little head peering cautiously 
in. Then, satisfied that no one was near, she ran lightly to the 
big desk ; 1 heard it shut down hastily, and then there was a quiet 
rustling noise, the office door closed and she was gone. 

This went on regularly, and at last one day it occurred to me 
that I sliould like to make her a present in return. I had a few 
shillings, the remains of my pocket-money, and I turned over in 
my own mind what I should give her. Cakes or sweets I voted 
too trifling, a doll too childish. What should I buy then ? Sud- 
denly I recollected that there were in a window in the little town 
some pretty silver brooches formed like a knot of twisted ribbon, 
and one of these I determined to buy. 

It took three out of my five shillings; but it looked very pretty 
in its little box, reposing on pink cotton-wool ; and having secured 
it, I returned to my copying at the desk, to think out how I could 
make my gift. 

Nothing was more simple. I wrapped up the little box neatly 
in a quarter-sheet of foolscap, sealed it with the office wax, and 
directed it in my best hand to “ Miss Hetty Blakeford. From 
one who is very grateful.” 

I felt very conscious and excited as I finished and laid it in the 
bottom of the desk, just where the presents were always placed 
for me, and to my great delight, when I looked again there was 
a plate of tart which the poor child had saved from her own 
dinner, and the packet was gone. 


CHAPTER V. 

MB. BLAKEFOED SUFFEES, AND I CATCH THE ECBit 

My life at Mr. Blakeford’s knew but little change. It was one 
regular monotonous occupation — copy, copy, copy, from morning 
till night ; and but for stolen bits of reading I believe I should 
have gone melancholy mad. I had no companions of my own 
age, no older friends to whom I could confide my troubles or aok 
for advice. Mr. Blakeford was always stern and repellent j Mrs 


24 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Blakeford, on the rare occasions when I encountered her, ill-used, 
and ready to say something about my being an extra expense. 
Only at rare intervals did I see little Hetty, and then it would be 
in the street, when I had been sent to the post, to fetch stamps, 
or on some such errand. Then I had a smile and a pleasant look 
to think about till our next encounter. 

A year glided by in this fashion, during which time, in spite of 
his constant complaints, I must have grown very useful to Mr. 
Blakeford, for my handwriting was clear and firm, and I copied a 
great many documents in the course of the month. 

He was as brutal to me as ever, and never lost an opportunity 
of abusing me for my being an incumbrance, or saying something 
which sent me miserable to my room. 

My tender point, and he knew it well enough, was an allusion 
to my father’s debt to him; and afterwards, when I went up 
wretched and low-spirited to bed, I used to make a vow that some 
day or another 1 would save enough money to pay him all my 
father owed, and so free his memory from what the lawyer always 
told me was a disgrace. 

Quite eighteen months had elapsed, when it became evident to 
me that Mr. Blakeford was in some trouble with one of his clients. 
This latter, a tall florid-looking farmer, bad, as I learned from 
what I heard of their conversation, borrowed money from my 
employer upon some security, with the understanding that pay- 
ment was not to be enforced so long as the heavy interest was 
provided for. 

Mr. Blakeford’s business seemed to consist a great deal in 
money-lending, and every now and then my old acquaintance, Mr. 
Rowle, came to the office for instructions, and found time for a 
friendly chat. 

Upon this occasion I noticed that Mr. Blakeford was very 
anxious about the coming of some one to the office, and he spent 
a good deal of time in watching from one of the windows. 

He was sternly examining a piece of copying that I had just 
finished, when there came three heavy knocks with a stick upon 
the outer door of the office. 

Mr. Blakeford turned yellow, and, catching me by the arm, 
whispered — 

It’s Mr. Wooster. Antony, say I’m not at home. Say I’ve 
gone out. Quick.” 

He pushed me towards the door, and I went to open it just as 
there were three more heavy knocks, and on drawing back the 
fastening, there stood Mr. Wooster, the stout, tall, farmer-looking 
man, scowling and angry. 

“ Where’s IMr. Blakeford ?” he cried, catching me fiercely by 
the collar, and shaking a stout ash stick he carri^. 

“ Please, sir — I began. 


MH. BLAKEFORD SUFFERS, AND I CATCH THE ECHO. 25 


" It’s a lie !” he roared ; he’s not out. Didn’t he tell you to 
say be was out ? ” 

Yes, sir,” I faltered, and he strode straight in ; and as I fol- 
lowed, I saw him catch Mr. Blakeford by the throat and pin him 
in his chair. 

“Fetch the constable, Antony,” cried Mr. Blakeford. “Quick!” 

“ Stop where you are, you young dog,” roared the farmer, “or 
I’ll kill you. Now, you scoundrel, what do you mean by seizing 
my goods, by putting your rascally man in possession after pro- 
mising me in this office that you would never put me to any 
inconvenience ? ” 

“ If you have any complaint to make against me, Mr. Wooster, 
employ your solicitor,” cried Mr. Blakeford hoarsely. 

“ Hang your solicitor and the whole crew, you scoimdrelly 
serpent I ” roared the farmer. “ You’ve ruined me, as you ruined 
that poor boy’s father, and a score more before him.” 

“ Antony — a constable — help I ” cried Mr. Blakeford, for he was 
yellow and green with fear. 

“ If Antony Grace stirs. I’ll crash him like I would a snail,” 
cried the farmer. “ And now look here, you crawling snake ; I 
trusted you because I didn’t believe any one could deliberately 
ruin another for the sake of a few pounds.” 

“Mr. Wooster, if you dare to strike me,” cried the miserable 
coward, “ I shall proceed against you for assault.” 

“ So you may,”^cried the farmer, witli a bitter laugh ; “ and as 
you’ve got every penny I had, much good may it do you. Look 
here, Blakeford ; if I knew that I should be transported for bfe to 
Botany Bay for what I’m going to do, I’d do it now.” 

As he spoke, he spat in his hand, took a fresh grip of the ash 
stick, and, in spite of Mr. Blakeford’s cries for help and mercy, he 
thrashed him till the stick broke in pieces ; and then, taking him 
by the collar with both hands, he shooic him till he was tired, and 
ended by throwing him back in his chair. 

“ There 1 ” cried the farmer ; “ now do your worst, you cheating 
scoundrel. I’m satisfied ; go and satisfy yourself, and much good 
may the money you have stolen from the poor, the fatherless, and 
the widow do you.” 

As he said this he strode out of the office and banged the door. 

I was half stunned with fear and horror, and I remember how 
thankful I felt that I had seen Mrs. Blakeford go out with Hetty 
half an hour before. While the thrashing was going on Mary 
had opened the door and looked in, but as if it were no business 
of hers, she had gone out again, and I was left the sole spectator. 

“ Are you much hurt, sir ? ” I said in trembling tones as soon 
as we were alone. 

“ Yes,” he whispered hoarsely, and showing his teeth, “a good 
deal.” 


THE STOEY OP ANTONY GRACE. 


S' 

Shall I get you something, sir ? ” 

Yes,” he said, panting less hoarsely, "fetch that leather case 
out of the passage.” 

I ran and fetched the heayy leather-covered box he meant, and 
placed it beside him, •watching him anxiously, to see if he were 
better. 

“Now, fasten both the doors,” he whispered, laying his hand 
upon his breast to keep down the panting as he drew his breath 
more easily, and wiped the perspiration from his face. 

I obeyed him, and then returned to his side. 

“Now unfasten that case, Antony,” he said in quite a faint 
whisper; and going down on one knee I unbuckled a thick strap 
that was round it, and was about to raise the lid, but it was locked. 

“That will do,” he said, suddenly changing his tone as he 
seized me by the jacket collar with one hand, the strap with the 
other. “ You young villain I ” he hissed; “you dog! Didn’t I 
tell you to say I was out, and you let that bully in ? TU give you 
such a lesson as you will never forget.” 

I was half stupefied as he raised the thick strap, and then 
brought it heavily down in blow after blow, cutting me all over 
the body, across the face, hands, legs, anywhere, and causing the 
most intense pain. I writhed and twined and screamed out under 
the first few blows in my agony ; then a feeling of blind passion 
came over me, and I caught at and struggled with him for the 
possession of the strap, but in vain ; for he kept me at bay with 
one hand and continued to beat me cruelly till I fell ; and then, 
placing one foot upon my chest, he beat me again till his arm fell 
m weariness to his side. 

“I’ll teach you to mind me another time,” he panted, as he 
gloated over me in his pitiful revenge for the beating he had him- 
self received. “I’ll give you something to remember this day 
by ; ” and, as I rose, he once more began to strike me ; but this 
time I caught at the strap and held it with hands and teeth, 
twisting it round me and holding on while he strove to drag it 
away. 

JVW resistance seemed to half madden him as I still held on. 

“ Let go, you dog 1 ” he roared, “ let go ! ” but I held on the 
more tightly ; when, beside himself with rage, as a loud knocking 
came now at the inner door, he caught up a hea-v^ office ruler 
from the table and struck me so cruel a blow across the head that 
I staggered backwards, and should have fallen to the floor if the 
door had not been dashed in and Mary caught me up. 


UNDER MARY’S MASK, 


27 


CHAPTER VI. 

UNDER MARY’s mask. 

**You great coward!” she cried in a rage, as, sick, faint, and 
heavy, and seeing everything now as in a dream, 1 was lifted in 
her stout arms. 

Leave this room, woman 1 ” I heard him say. 

** Yes, and your house too, you wretch ! ” she retorted ; and then 
I heard no more till I seemed to wake in a heavy, dull, throbbing 
fashion in the kitchen, where some one seemed to be wetting my 
head with water smelling very strongly of pickles. 

The place looked as if it was early morning, and the walls, with 
the dresser, plates, and tureens, and the bright tin dish-covers, 
seemed to be going round and round, but not regularly, for it was 
as if they went up and down in a wavy billowy way, and all the 
time I seemed to feel terribly sick. 

“ Oh, if I was a man ! ” I heard Mary mutter ; and then more 
softly, “ There, don’t you cry. Miss Hetty ; he ain’t killed. It’s 
left off bleeding now. You go to your mar’s work-basket and ger 
me a strip of rag. You ain’t got any sticking-plaister, have you ?” 

I’ve got some black court-plaister, Mary.” 

Thakil do, chucky ; go and get it. Poor boy, he has had a 
beating 1 ” she muttered as I heard Hetty’s steps crossing the 
kitchen floor. 

I’m — I’m better now, Mary,” I said faintly ; and I tried to 

rise. 

‘^No, you ain’t better, neither; and you’ll just lie quite stiff tiff 
your head’s done,” said Mary, in her rough ungracious way. “ You 
needn’t be afraid about him ; he’s gone to bed and sent for the 
doctor, because he pretends he’s so bad, and Mr. Emmett the con- 
stable is upstairs with him, about going to the magistrates and 
taking up Mr. Wooster for beating him; but he didn’t say nothing 
about taking his self up for beating you, a great ugly coward I 
Oh I here you are, are you ? ” 

Here’s some clean soft linen and the court-plaister,” 1 heard 
Hetty say with a sob. 

“ Where’s your mar ? ” said Mary. 

‘^Upstairs in papa’s room.” 

“ Ho 1 ” ejaculated Mary, “and I hope she’ll stay there. There, 
don’t you begin a-crying again. Hold his hair back while I put 
this bit on. There, it’s not going to bleed any more, and you 
needn’t get shuddering like that at the sight of a little blood. 
That’s the way. Poor boy, it was enough to knock down a hox. 


28 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


Never mind the wet hair ; it’s only vinegar and water. That’s th® 
way ; we’ll soon strap it up. I don’t want to hurt your feelings. 
Miss Hetty, hut your par’s a brute.” 

“Oh, Mary! I won’t stop in the kitchen if you say such things,” 
cried Hetty, stamping her little foot. 

“ Then you’d better go back into the parlour, my dear, for I 
shall say what I like in my own kitchen ; so there now.” 

“ It’s very cruel and unkind of you, Mary.” 

“ And it’s very cruel and unkind of your par to keep this poor 
boy half-starved in that orfis.” 

“He did not, Mary. I’m sure papa would not do such a thing.” 

“ And that’s why you go without half your dinner, and then 
take and put it in Antony’s desk.” 

“Mary!” 

“Ah, you may Mary as long as you like, but I’ve seen you do it.” 

“ Hush ! pray don’t, Mary ; he’ll hear you.” 

“ Not he, my dear. Poor boy ! he’s dropped off asleep, and the 
best thing too. You’re asleep, aren’t you ? ” 

I tried to answer “No,” but the faint deathly feeling came over 
me again as strongly as ever, and all seemed dark and silent once 
more. 

It was getting dark when 1 awoke ; for, from fainting, I must 
have lapsed into a heavy sleep, the result of exhaustion and the 
shock. My head ached, and I w: s very stiff and in great pain as 
I tried to raise myself from the p How which propped me up in 
the great Windsor chair. Mary was seated opposite to me, croon- 
ing some ditty in a low voice as she sat sewing, the needle clicking 
against her thimble as she thrust it through the work. 

The fire was burning brightly, the tea-things on the table, the 
pot on the hob, and some buttered toast upon the fender. 

As I was gazing at her, and noticing the play of the flames over 
her red and rugged countenance, she suddenly raised her eyes, 
gazed full at me, and the harsh repulsive look passed away as she 
showed a set of white teeth in a pleasant smile, and rose and came 
to me, bending down and laying her hand upon my burning fore- 
head. 

“You won’t want no doctor,” she said; and to my utter astonish- 
ment she bent lower, kissed me, and then softly patted my cheek. 
“ Poor boy,” she said, “ it was a shame 1 ” 

I gazed up piteously and wildly, I believe, in her face, for it 
was so strange. She had always been so rough and harsh towards 
me, and her frequent donations of bread and butter seemed to 
have been given to me more out of spite to her employers than 
out of kindness to me ; but now it was plain enough that under 
her rugged crust she possessed a true woman’s nature, and the ill- 
treatment I had received had completely made her my friend. 

“ I’ve been waiting all this time for you to wake and have tea,” 


UNDER MARY’S MASK. 


29 


she said, placing’ the pot and the toast on the table. Now then, 
see if you can’t sit up and have some.” 

I couldn’t drink any, thank you,” I said faintly. 

Such stuff and nonsense ! It’s quite fresh, and I’ve put iu 
some extra as IMiss Hetty give me. Come now, sit up and try, 
there’s a dear.” 

I tried to sit up, but the pain was so great that I sank hack, 
having hard work not to cry out ; and seeing this, with a tender- 
ness for which I should not have given her credit, she gently 
raised me and backed the pillows up, so as to support me ; and 
then, finding that this was not suLficient, she ran out of the 
kitchen, to return in a few minutes, doubling up what I knew was 
her best shawl, which she now formed into a cushion. 

“There, now we shall do,” she said cheerily ; and, pouring out 
a cup of tea, she tasted and added milk till it was to her liking, 
and then held it to my lips. 

It was like nectar, and I gave her a grateful look for that 
which seemed to impart new life to my bruised body. 

“Now, you’ve got to eat some toast,” she said, and I stared at 
her in wonder, for it seemed to be a new Mary upon whom I 
gazed. 

“ I couldn’t eat a bit,” I said helplessly. 

“But you must,” she said imperatively. “Now look here, 
you have had hardly anything since breakfast, and if you don’t 
eat, you can’t get well.” 

I took the toast she held to me, and managed to eat it. That 
done, I had another cup of tea, and the sickly faint feeling I had 
had every time I moved seemed less overpowering ; and at last I 
lay back there, listening helplessly to Mary as she chatted to me 
and washed up the tea-things. 

“ Don’t you trouble about them ; they won’t come in my 
kitchen. He’s ill in bed, or pretending to be, and the doctor says 
he ain’t to move for a week. I hope he mayn’t for a month — a 
brute! I never see such a cowardly trick. I wish my William 
had him. He’s going to have the law of Mr. Wooster, so Mr. 
Emmett the constable told me ; and him and the doctor’ll make 
out a nice case between ’em, I know. Pah ! I hate lawyers and 
doctors. So you make yourself comfortable. I’ll be your doctor, 
and if they ain’t pretty civil to me. I’ll be your lawyer, too, and 
go to the madgistrits, see if I don’t. If I was you I wouldn’t stay 
with ’em a minnit after I got well. I shan’t ; I’m sick of ’em.” 

“ I wish I could go, Mary,” I said, “ but I don’t want to go now 
you’ve been so kind.” 

“ Kind I Stuff ! It’s only my way. There ain’t a better- 
tempered girl nowheres than I am ; only when you come to live 
in a house where the master’s a snarling, biting, growling hound, 
and the missus is a fault-finding, scolaing, murmuring himidge. 


30 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

it’s enough to put out a hartcliaugel. But I say, if I was you, 
and could write such a lovely hand, I should send and tell my 
father and mother. Oh, I am sorry, dear — I forgot about youi 
poor father and mother. But I would write and tell somebody.” 

Mary’s allusion to my lovely handwriting was consequent upon 
my having copied a letter for her to one Mr. William Revitts, 
who was a policeman in London. She had asked me to copy it 
for her, and direct it proper,” because her hands were so dirty 
when she wrote that she was afraid he might not be able to read 
it. All the same, Mary’s hands seemed to have been perfectly 
clean, though the probabilities were that the said Mr. William 
Revitts, mi one dere,willim,” would certainly not have been able 
to read the letter. In fact, I broke down over the very beginning 
by mistaking “ one ” for the number, and had to be corrected, 
Mary having meant to say own. 

Her allusion to my parents touched a tender chord, and my 
face worked as I recalled the happy times gone by. 

I have nobody to write to,” I said at last — “ only my uncle.’^ 

Then I’d wrife and tell him, that I would.” 

I am not quite sure where he lives,” I said. ** I never saw 
him till — till he came to the funeral.” 

^^But haven’t you got nobody belonging to you — no friends 
at all ? ” 

I think not,” I said helplessly. No one who would help me.” 

Well, you are a one,” said Mary, pausing in the act of wiping 
out the tea-tray after half filling it and pouring the dirty water 
off at one corner. Why, I’ve got no end o’ people belonging to 
me ; and if that brute upstairs — as I wish he may ache bad for a 
week ! — was to raise his hand against me, my William would 
be down and serve him worse than Mr. Wooster did, I can tell 
him — a wretch ! ” 

*^Is that Mr. William Revitts,” I asked, *'the policeman ? ” 

Yes; but he wouldn’t come down here as a policeman, but as 
a gentleman, and he’d soon teach Mr. Blakeford what he ought 
to — - Yes! What is it?” 

This was in answer to a shrill call for Mary in Mrs. Blakeford’s 
voice, and that lady came in immediately after, to Mary’s great 
disgust. 

You must get hot water ready directly, Mary,” she began in 
an ill-used way. “ I’m sure I don’t Imow what I shall do. He’s 
very bad indeed.” 

“ Oh, there’s lots of hot water,” said Mary shortly. “ Biler’s 
full, and kettle’s full, and I’ll put on the great black saucepan and 
light the copper if you like.” 

As she spoke Mary seized the big poker, and began stoking 
and hammering away at the fire in a most vicious manner, as 
" determined to vent her spleen upon Mr. Biakeford’s coals. 


DREAMS OF THE GREAT MAGNET. 


31 


"Your poor master’s dreadfully bad,” said Mrs. Blakeford 
again, and she kept on looking at me in a way that seemed quite 
to indicate that 1 alone was to blame. 

" Oh, yes, mum, I dessay he is, and so’s other people too, and 
wuss. I dessay he’ll get better again if he don’t die.” 

Mrs. Blakeford stared at Mary in a half-terrified way, and 
backed to the door. 

" You ring the bell when you want it, and I’ll bring you a can 
of water upstairs,” continued Mary ungraciously. 

" And couldn’t you help me a little in attending upon your 
master, Mary .P ” 

"No, I couldn’t, mum,” she said shorlly, "for I’m the worst 
nuss as ever was; and besides, I’ve got my kitchen work to do; 
and if you wants a nuss, there’s ]\Irs. Jumfreys over the way 
would be glad to come, I dessay, only I ain’t going to have her 
here in my kitchen.” 

Mrs. Blakeford hastily backed out of the kitchen and retreated 
upstairs, while Mary’s rough mask dropped off as soon as she 
had gone. 

" I wasn’t going to tell her as I nussed an invalid lady two 
years ’fore I came here,” she said, smiling. "Besides, I didn’t 
want to have ijothing to do with him, for fear I should be 
tempted to give him his lotion ’stead of his physic, he aggravates 
me so. Lotions is pison, you know — outward h application only.” 

That aight I had a bed made up down in the kitchen, and 
passed a weary, feverish time ; but towards morning a pleasant 
feeling of drowsiness came over me. I fell asleep to dream that I 
was at home once more, and all was bright and sunshiny as I sat 
half asleep in the summer-house, when my mother came and laid 
her hand upon my forehead, and I opened my eyes to find it was 
Mary, ready to ask me whether I was better ; and though the sweet, 
bright dream had gone, there was something very tender in the 
eyes that looked in mine. 


CHAPTER VII. 

DBEAMS OE THE GBEAT MAGNET. 

I WAS very stiff and sore, and there was a peculiar giddiness 
ready to assail me as soon as I moved, so Mary, in her double 
capacity of doctor and nurse, decided that I was not to attempt to 
walk about that day. 

The consequence was that she made no scruple about dragging 
a little couch out of the parlour into the kitchen, and after 1 was 
dressed, making me lie down near the fire. 


32 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE, 


they don’t ike it about the sofy, they must do the other 
thing/’ she said, laughing. say, do you know what time 

it is ? ” 

“ No,” I replied. 

Half-past ten, and I’ve been waiting breakfast till you woke. 
You have had a sleep. I wouldn’t wake you, for I thought it 
would do you good.” 

‘‘ I am better, a great deal,” I said. 

“Yes; so you are. He ain’t, or pretends he ain’t. Miss 
Hetty’s been catching it.” 

^Hlasshe?” 

" Yes ; for wanting to know about you. Missus told her you 
were a wicked young wretch, and had half killed your master, 
and she was never to mention your name again.” 

I was decidedly better, and in the course of the afternoon I got 
up and found that the various objects had ceased to waltz around. 
I made my way up to my bedroom, and for the first time had a 
look at myself in the glass, where I found that a sore feeling 
upon my face was caused by a couple of black marks which 
crossed each other at a sharp angle, and that high up above my 
temple, and just where the hair would cover it, there was a patch 
of black court-plaister, which was placed across and across in 
strips to cover a long and painful cut. 

The days glided by ; the weals on my face changed colour and 
began to fade, while the cut on my head grew less painful. 1 was 
thrown a good deal with Mary, for no work had been set me 
in the office, and Mr. Blakeford kept his bed, being regularly 
attended by the doctor. 

I found — Mary being my informant — that there was to be 
quite a serious case made of it, and Mrs. Blakeford had told hex 
that I was to be an important witness to the assault. 

A fortnight had passed; and as I sat alone day after day in 
the office thinking of a plan that had suggested itself to my 
mind, but fearing to put it into execution, I had two visitors who 
completely altered my career in life. 

The first came one morning as 1 was writing a letter to my 
uncle — a letter destined never to reach him — in the shape of the 
big farmer, Mr. Wooster, who rapped sharply at the office door, 
and gazed sternly at me as I opened it and stood in the little 
passage. 

“ Where’s Blakeford ? ” he said sharply. 

‘an in bed, sir,” I said. 

"It’s a lie, you young rascal,” he cried, catching me by the 
collar. " Here, how old are you ? ” 

" Thirteen, sir.” 

"And you can teU lies like that, eh? and without blush- 


33 


DREAMS OF THE GREAT MAGNET. 

" It is not a lie, sir,” I said stoutly. ** Mr. Blakefoixi hasn’t 
been down since — since ” 

thrashed him, eh P ” he said, laughing*. ^*It was a good 
thrashing too, eh, youngster? But, hallo I what’s the matter 
with your head ? ” 

A cut, sir.” 

** What 1 Did you tumble down ? ” 

“No, sir. It was done the day you— you beat Mr. Blake- 
ford.” 

“How?” 

I was silent. 

“ He— he didn’t dare to do it^ did he P ” 

I was still silent. 

“ Look here, youngster, tell me the truth and I’ll give you a 
shilling.” 

“ I never told a lie yet, sir,” I said stoutly, “ and I don’t want 
your shilling.” 

He looked at me intently for a few moments, and then held out 
his hand, 

“ Shake hands,” he said. 

I placed mine in his, and he squeezed it so that he hurt me, but 
I did not flinch. 

“ I believe you, my lad. You don’t look like a lying sort, and I 
wish you were out of this. Now, tell me, did he make that cut on 
your head ? ” 

I nodded. 

“ What with ? ” 

“That ruler.” 

“ Humph I And what forP * 

“ Because I let you in on that day.” 

“ Hang him 1 ” he cried, striding up and down the office, for he 
had walked straight in, “ he’s a bigger scoundrel than I thought 
him. Now, look here, my man, there’s going to be an action, or 
a trial, or something, against me, and you’ll be the principal wit- 
ness. Now, what are you going to do ? ” 

“ Going to do, sir ? ’’ . 

“ Yes,” he said impatiently ; “ you’ll have to appear before the 
magistrates, and you’ll be asked all about my thrashing your 
master. What are you going to say ? ” 

“ I shall tell them the truth, sir.” 

“No, vou won’t! my boy. You’ll say what Mr. Blakeford tells 
you to say.” 

“ 1 shall tell the truth, sir,” I said stoutly. 

“ Look here, my lad, if you tell the truth, that’s all I want ; if 
you don’t, you’ll ruin me.” 

“ I’m sure I shall tell the truth, sir,” I said, colouring up and 
speaking earnestly. ^ 


34 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Youll tell the magistrates, then, that I snatched up the p«ker 
and beat Mr. Blakeford with that, eh ? ” 

No, sir, it was your walking-stick.'’ 

“ Was it anything like that.^ ” he said, holding out the one he 
carried. 

“ Yes, sir, just like it. Here are the pieces, sir,” I said ; and I 
took them out of my desk, where I had placed them. 

“ You’re a brave boy,” he cried, rubbing his hands ; “so they are. 
Now look here, my boy : Mr. Blakeford says 1 assaulted him with 
the poker. Just you button those pieces of stick up in your 
pocket — no, give them to me; I’ll take them. Now; when the 
day comes, and I ask you to tell the truth about it, you speak out 
honestly, or, better still, go and hide yourself and never come near 
the court at all. There’s half-a-crown for you. What, you won’t 
take it I Well, just as you like. Good-bye 1 ” 

He shook hands with me again, and nodding in a friendly way, 
left the office. 

He had not been gone more than an hour when there was 
another knock at the door, and on opening it, I admitted Mr. 
Rowle, who smiled at me as he took ofi his hat and smoothed his 
thin streaky hair across his bald head. 

Well, young un,” he said, “ why, you’re mowing quite a man. 
But what’s the matter with your forehead ? ” 

I told him, and he gave a low, long whistle. 

“ I say, young un,” he said, “ I dare say it ain’t no business of 
mine, but if I was you, I should look after another place. Perhaps, 
though, he wouldn’t let you go.” 

“ Mr. Blakeford often says, Mr. Rowle, that he wishes I was 
out of his sight.” 

“ Gammon 1 ” said my visitor; ^Mon’t you believe him. You 
do as you like ; but if I was a boy like you, I wouldn’t stay here.” 

I looked up at him guiltily, and he stared hard at rne, as if 
reading my thoughts. 

“ Why, what’s wrong ? ” he said ; “you look as red as a turkey- 
cock!” 

“ Please, Mr. Rowle — but you won’t tell Mr. Blakeford ? ” 

“Tell Mr. Blakeford ? Not I.” 

“I mean to go up to London, and try and find my uncle.” 

“ Try and find him ? What, don’t you know where he livee P ” 

“No, sir.” 

“ Humph ! London’s a big place, you know.” 

“ Yes, sir, but I dare say I could find him.” 

“ What is he — a gentleman ? ” 

“ Yes, sir, I think so.” 

“ So don’t I, my boy, or he’d never have left you in charge of 
old Pouncewax. But lookye here now; out with it! What do 
you mean to do— -give notice to leave, or are you going to cut ? ” 


DPEAMS OE THE GREAT MAGNET. 


35 


** Cut what, sir ? ” 

** Cut what 5 . Why, cut away — rmi up to Loudon.” 

I hesitated for a few moments and hung my head ; then, looking 
up in my old friend’s face, as he thrust his hand into his cuff — 
and I expected to see him draw his pipe — I felt that I had nothing 
to fear from him, and I spoke out. 

Please, Mr. Howie, I’m so unhappy here, that I was going to 
run away.” 

He caught me by the collar so sharply that I thought he was 
going to punish me ; but it was only to bring down his other hand 
with a sharp clap upon my shoulder. 

I’m glad of it, young un. Hun away, then, before he crushes 
all the hope and spirit out of you.” 

** Then you don^t think it would be very wrong, sir ? ” 

I think it would be very right, young un ; and I hope if you 
find your uncle, he won’t send you back. If he wants to, don’t 
come : but run away again. Look here ; you’ll want a friend in 
London. Go and see my brother.” 

“ Your brother, sir ? ” 

“ Yes, my brother Jabez. You’ll know him as soon as you see 
him ; he’s just like me. How old do you think I am ? ” 

** T sliould think you’re fifty, sir.” 

'^Fifty-eight, young un ; and so’s Jabez. There, you go and 
put his name and address down. Fifty-eight he is, and T’m fifty- 
eight, so there’s a pair of ns. Now, then, write away : Mr, Jabez 
Howie, Ruddle and Lister.” 

"Mr. Jabez Howie,” I said, writing it carefully down, 

" Good. Now Huddle and Lister,” 

" Ruddle and Tiister.” 

" Commercial printers.” 

" Com-mer-cial prin-ters.” 

" Short Street, Fetter Lane,” 

.... " Fet-ter Lane.” 

" And now let’s look.” 

I handed him the scrap of paper. 

"Why, it’s lovely. Copper-plate’s nothing to it, young un. 
There, you go up and see him, and tell him you’ve come up to 
London to make your fortune, and he’ll help you, I went up to 
London to make mine, young un.” 

" And did you make it, sir P ” I said eagerly. 

He looked down at his shabby clothes, smoothed his hair, and 
then, with a curious smile upon his face — • 

" No, young un, I didn’t make it, I made eomet-hing else 
instead.” 

" Did you, sir ? ’ 

" Yes, young un — a mess of it. Look here, I might have got 
on, but r Aearned to drink like a fish, I)on’t you. Mind thU S 

3 2 


36 


THE STORY OF AKTONY GRACE. 


drink means going* downwards into the mud; leaving it alone 
means climbing up to the top of the tree. Bless your young 
heart, wdiatever you do, don’t drink.” 

No, sir,” I said, I will not;” but I did not appreciate his 
advice. 

** There, you stick to that paper. And now, how much money 
have you got ? ” 

** Money, sir ? ” 

“ Yes, money. London’s a hundred miles away, and you can’t 
walk.” 

I think I could, sir.” 

“ Well, try it; and ride when you’re tired. How much liave 
you got ? ” 

I took out my little blue silk purse, and counted in sixpences 
half-a-crown. 

He looked at me for some few moments, and then stood think- 
ing, as if trying to make up his mind about something. 

I’ll do it,” he muttered. “ Look here, young un, you and I 
are old friends, ain’t we ? ” 

Oh, yes ! ” I said eagerly. 

‘^Tben I will do it,” he said, and untying his neckerchief, he, 
to my great surprise, began to unroll it, to show me the two ends 
that were hidden in the folds. “For a rainy day,” he said, “ and 
this is a rainy day for you. Look here, young un ; this is my 
purse. Here’s two half-suvs tied up in these two corners — that’s 
one for you, and one for me.” 

“ Oh, no, sir,” I said, “ I’d rather not take it ! ” and I shrank 
away, for he seemed so poor and shabby, that the idea troubled 
me. 

“ I don’t care whether you’d rather or not,” he said, untying one 
corner with his teeth. “ You take it, and some day when you’ve 
made your fortune, you give it me back — if so be as you find I 
haven’t succeeded to my estate.” 

Do you expect to come in for an estate some day, sir ? ” I 
said eagerly. 

“ Bless your young innocence, yes. A piece of old mother earth, 
my bov, six foot long, and two foot wide. Just enough to bury 
me in.^’ 

I understood him now, and a pang shot through me at the idea 
of another one who had been kind to me dying. He saw my look 
and nodded sadly. 

“ Yes, my lad, perhaps I shall be dead and gone long before 
then.” 

“ Oh, sir, don’t ; it’s so dreadful I ” I said. 

“No, no, my boy,” he said quietly ; and he patted my shoulder, 
as he pressed the half-sovereign into my hand. “ Not so dreadful 
as you think. It sounds very awful to you youngsters, with the 


I TAKE A BOLD STEP. 


87 


world before you, and all hope and brightness; but some day, 
please God you live long enough, youll begin to grow very tired, 
and then it will seem to you more like going to take a long* rest. 
But there, there, we won’t talk like that. Here, give me that 
money back ! ” 

I handed it to him, thinking that he had repented of what he 
had done, and he hastily rolled the other half-sovereign up, and 
re-tied his handkerchief. 

“ Here,” he said, “ stop a minute, and don’t shut the door. I 
shall soon be back.” 

He hurried out, and in five minutes was back again to gaze 
at me smiling. 

Stop a moment,” he said, ** I must get sixpence out of another 
pocket. I had to buy an ounce o’ ’bacco so as to get change. Now, 
here you are — hold out your hand.” 

I held it out unwillingly, and he counted eight shillings and four 
sixpences into it. 

That’s ten,” he said ; ** it’s better for you so. Now you put some 
in one pocket and some in another, and tie some up just the same 
as I have, and put a couple of shillings anywhere else you can ; 
and mind andnever show your money, and never tell anvbody how 
much you’ve got. And mind this, too, when anybody asks you 
to give him something to drink, take him to the pump. That’s 
all. Stop. Don’t lose that address. GoVnor’s not down, I s’pose ? ” 

“No, sir,” I said. 

“ All right then, I shan’t stay. Good-bye, young un. When 
are you going ? ” 

“ I’m not quite sure yet, sir.” 

“No? Well, perhaps I shan’t see you again. Jabez Rowle, 
mind you. Tell him all about yourself, mind, and good-bye.” 

He trotted off, but came back directly, holding out his hand. 

“ God bless you, young un,” he said huskily. “ Good-bye.” 

Before I could speak again, the door closed sharply, and I was 
alone. 


CHAPTER VIII. 

I TAKE A BOLD STEP. 

My head was in a whirl as soon as Mr. Rowle had gone, and I sat 
at my desk thinking over my project, for I had felt for days past 
that I could not stay where I was — that I would sooner die ; 
and night after night I had lain awake thinking of the, to me, 
terrible step I proposed to take. My life at Mr. Blakeford’a 
had been such a scene of misery and torture, that I should have 
gone long enough before, had I dared. Now that I had grown 


38 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


older, and a little more confident, I had gradually nurtured tbe 
idea as my only hope, and the events of the past weeks had pretty 
well ripened my scheme. 

As I sat there, I laid my arms on the hig desk, and my head 
down upon them, trembling at my daring, as the idea took a fat 
more positive shape than ever; and now a feeling of reluctance to 
leave had come upon me. Mary had been so kind ; and then there 
was little Hetty, who had silently shown me so many tokens of hei 
girlish goodwill. 

I felt as I sat there, with the money and address in my pocket, 
that I must go now ; and to act as a spur to my intentions, the 
words of Mr. Wooster came trooping across my memory. 

Would Mr. Blakeford want me to go to the magistrates and say 
what was not true ? 

In imagination, I saw his threatening dark face before me, and 
his thin lips just parting to display his white teeth in that dog- 
like smile of his, and I shuddered, as I felt how I feared him. It 
would be horrible to be threatened till I promised to say what he 
wished, and to lie to the magistrates with Mr. Wooster’s threat- 
ening face watching me the while. 

But he would not ask me to tell a lie, I thought, and I could not 
run away. Mary would never forgive me, and Hetty would think 
that I really did cause her father to be so beaten. No : I felt I 
could not go, and that somehow I must get away from the house, 
go straight to Mr. Rowle’s lodgings, and give him back the money, 
which I had received upon such a false pretence. 

It was all over. I felt the idea of freeing myself from my 
wretched slavery was one that could never be carried out, and I 
must wait patiently and bear my miserable lot. 

Crack ! 

I leaped up as if I had been shot, to see Mr .Blakeford, in dressing- 
gown and slippers, his hair cut short, and looking very pale, 
standing in the office, the ruler in his hand, with which he had 
just struck the table and made me start. 

Asleep ! ” he said sharply. 

‘^No, sir,” I said, trembling as I looked at him over the par- 
tition. ^^No, sir, I was not asleep.” 

It’s a lie, sir, you were asleep. Come here.” 

I descended from the stool, and opening the partition door, 
went slowly into his part of the office, and stood by the table, hij 
dark eyes seeming to pierce me through and through. 

Been worked so hard since I was ill, eh ? ” he said sneeringly, 

«No, sir,I ” 

“ Hold your tongue. What’s the matter with your head ? ” 

** My head, sir ? ” I stammered. 

** Yes, that half-healed cut. Oh, I remember, you fell down, 
didn’t you P ” 




I TAKE A BOLD STEP. 
No, I- 


89 




** Fell down, sir ! 

You fell down — pitched down — I remember, while climbing.’' 

No, sir, I ” 

“Look here, you dog,” he hissed between his teeth; “you fell 
down, do you hear ? and cut your head when climbing. Do you 
understand ? ” 

“ No, sir, I ” 

“ Once more, Antony Grace, listen to me. If anyone asks you 
how you came by that cut, mind — you fell down when climbing — 

you fell down when climbing. If you forget that ” 

He did not finish, but seemed to hold me with his eye as he 
played with the ruler and made it go up and down. 

“Look here, my boy, you are my clerk, and you are to do 
exactly as I tell you. Now, listen to me. The day after to- 
morrow there is to be a case of assault brought before the 
magistrates, and y^ou will be sworn as a witoess. You let Mr. 
Wooster in — curse him I — and you saw him come up to my table 
where I was sitting, and make a demand for money.” 

“ Please, sir, I did not hear him ask for money.” 

“You did, sir,” he thundered ; “ and you saw him strike me with 
his stick.” 

Yes, sir, I saw him strike you,” I crie'^ hastily. 

“ Oh, you did see that, did you ? ” he said in sneering 
tones, 

“.Yes, sir.” 

“ Did you see the stick break ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” I said eagerly. 

“ Oh, come ; I’m glad you can remember that. Tlien he caught up 
the poker and beat me with it heavily across the body, till the 
■ poker was bent right round ; and at last, when I was quite stunned 
and senseless, and with the blood streaming from my lips, he left 
me half dead and went away.” 

There was a pause here, during which I could not take my eyes 
from his. 

“ You saw all that, didn’t you ? ” 

“ No, sir,” 1 said, “ he did not take the poker.’’ 

“What?” 

“ He did not take the poker, sir.” 

“ Oh ! and he did not beat me with it till it was bent ? ” 

“No, sir.” 

“ Go and fetch that poker,” he said quietly ; and I went tremb- 
ling, and picked it up, to find it quite bent. 

“ There, you see ? ” he said. 

Y^ es, sir, it is bent.” 

“ Of course it is, Antony. You don’t remember that he struck 
me with it, eh ? ” 

“No, sir,” I said, trembling. 



40 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Ah, I shall have to refresh your memory, my boy. You 
remember, of course, about the blood?” 

No, sir. 

Wbat’i that on the floor ? ' 

I looked down at the place to which he pointed with the bent 
poker, and there were some dark stains where I had fallen. Then, 
raising my eyes to his again, I looked at him imploringly. 

“ I shall soon refresh your memory, Antony,” he said, laughing 
silently, and looking at me so that I shivered again. You will 
find, on sitting down and thinking a little, that you recollect 
perfectly well how Mr. Wooster beat me cruelly with the poker, 
till it was bent like this, and left me bleeding terribly on the office 
floor. There, hold your tongue. You’ll recollect it all. Sit down 
and try and remember it, there’s a good boy. I’m better now, but I 
can’t talk much. Let me see, Antony, what time do you go to bed ? ” 

Nine o’clock, sir,” I faltered. 

^'Exactly. Well, don’t go to sleep, my boy. Ill come up to 
you after you are in bed, and see if you remember it any better. 
Go back to your desk.” 

I crept back, watching him the while, as he stood balancing the 
poker in his hand, and smiling at me in a way that made my blood 
turn cold. Then, throwing the poker back with a crash into the 
grate, he went out as silently as he had come, and I sat there 
thinking for quite two hours. 

At the end of that time, I took a sheet of paper, and wrote 
upon it aa well as my wet trembling hands would let me — 

"My dear Mary, — 

"Please don’t think me a very ungrateful boy, but I cannot, 
and Ida?} not, stay here any longer. When you read this I shall 
be gone, never to come back any more. Please tell Miss Hetty 1 
shall never forget her kindness, and 1 shall never forget yours. 

“ I remain, your affectionate friend, 

“ Antony Gracb. 

" P.S. — Some day, perhaps, we shall meet somewhere. I am 
very unhappy, and 1 cannot write any more. Mr. Blakeford 
■frightens me.” 

This letter I doubled and sealed up in the old fashion, and kept 
in my pocket, meaning to post it, and at last, when I went into the 
kitchen to tea, I was half afraid to meet Mary. She noticed my 
pale face, and I told her the truth, that I had a bad headache, 
making it an excuse for going up to bed at eight o’clock, feeling 
as if the greatest event in my life were about to take place, and 
shaking like a leaf. 

J felt that I had an hour to spare, and spent part of the time in 


I TAKE A BOLD STEP. 


41 


QQaking a bundle of my best clothes and linen. I tied up in 
i, handkerchief, too, some thick slices of bread and butter, and 
some bread and meat that I had found that afternoon in my desk, 
riien, as the night grew darker, I sat thinking and asking myself, 
after placing my bundles ready, whether I should go at once, 
or wait till 1 heard Mr. Blakeford coming. 

I had just decided to go at once, feeling that I dare not face Mr. 
Blakeford again, when I heard hia voice downstairs, and started 
up, trembling in every limb. 

“ Where’s that boy ? ” 

** Gone to bed,” said Mary surlily. Then I heard a door shut 
directly after, and breathed more freely. I felt that I must go at 
once, and stood in the middle of the room, shivering with nervous 
excitement, as I thought of the madness of the step I was about 
to undertake. 

A dozen times over I felt that I dare not go, till the recollection 
of Mr. Blak^ford’s dark threatening face and sneering smile gave 
me strength, and made me call up the picture of myself before the 
magistrates telling all I knew about the assault, of course not 
saying anything about the poker, or my employer’s injuries j and 
then I began to think about meeting him afterwards. 

** He’ll half kill me,” I thought ; and stopping at this, I nerved 
myself for what I had to do, and putting on my cap, went to the 
door and listened. 

I had spent so much time in indecision that the church clock 
was striking ten, and I started as I thought of Mr. Blakeford 
being already upon the stairs. 

From where I stood I could have seen the light shining out of 
the kitchen where Mary sat at work ; but it was not there, and I 
knew that she must have gone up to bed. 

It now flashed upon me that this was why Mr. Blakeford had 
been waiting — he did not want Mary to interfere; and a cold chill 
came over me as I felt that he meant to beat me till I consented 
to say what he wished. 

There was no time to lose, so, darting back, I caught up my two 
bundles, crept to the door, descended the stairs on tiptoe, and felt 
my heart beat violently at every creak the woodwork of the 
wretched steps gave. 

Twice over a noise in the house made me turn to run back, but 
as there was silence once more, 1 crept down, and at last reached 
the mat in front of the office door. 

At the end of the passage was the parlour, where I knew Mr. 
Blakeford would be sitting, and as I looked towards it in the 
darkness, I could see a faint glimmer of light beneath the door, 
and then heard Mr. Blakeford cough slightly and move his 
chair. 

Turning hastily, 1 felt for the handle of the office-door, which 


42 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


was half glass, with a black muslin blind over it, and moving the 
handle, I found the door locked. The key was in, though, and 
turning it, there was a sharp crack as the bolt shot back, and then 
as *1 unclosed this door, L heard that of the parlour open, and 
a light shone down the passage. 

“ He’s coming I ” I said in despair ; and for a moment, my heart 
failed me, so great an influence over me had this man obtained, 
and I stood as if nailed to the floor. The next moment, though, 
with my heart beating so painfully that it was as if I was being 
suffocated, I glided into the office and closed the door, holding it 
shut, without daring to let the handle turn and the catch slip 
back. 

If he came into the office, I was lost, and in imagination, I saw 
myself with my cap on, and my bundles under my arm, standing 
trembling and detected before him. Trembling, indeed, as the 
light came nearer, and [ saw him dimly through the black blind 
approaching the office-door. 

He was coming iuto the office, and all was over 1 Closer, closer 
he came, till he was opposite the door, when he stopped short, as 
if listening. 

His face was not a yard from mine, and as I gazed at him 
through the blind, with starting eyes, seeing his evil-looking coun- 
tenance lit up by the chamber candlestick he carried, and the 
grim smile upon his lips, I felt that he must hear me breathe. 

1 was paralyzed, for it seemed to me that his eyes were gazing 
straight into mine — fascinating me as it were, where I stood. 

He was only listening, though, and instead of coming straight 
into the office, he turned off sharp to the left, and began to ascend 
the stairs leading to my bedroom. 

There was not a moment to lose, but I was as if in a nightmare, 
and could not stir, till, wrenching myself away, I darted across 
the office to the outer door, slipped the bolts, and turned the key 
with frantic haste, just as his steps sounded overhead, and I heard 
him calling me by name. 

The door stuck, and I could not get it open, and all the time I 
could hear him coming. He ran across the room, every footstep 
seeming to come down upon my head like lead. He was descend- 
ing the stairs, and still that door stuck fast at the top. 

In a despairing moment, I looked behind me to see the light 
shining in at the glass door as he descended, and then my hand 
glided to the top of the door, and I found that I had not quite shot 
back the bolt. 

The next moment it was free, the door open, and I was through ; 
but, feeling that he would catch me in the yard, I tore out the key, 
thrust it into the hole with trembling fingers, and as he dashed 
open the inner door I closed tlie one where I stood, and locked it 
from the outside. 


1 TAKE A BOLD STEP. 


43 


I had somehow held on to my bundles, and was about to run 
across the yard to the pump in the corner, place one foot upon the 
spout, and by this means reach the top of the wall, when I 
stopped, paralyzed once more by the fierce barking of the dog. 

To my horror I found that he was loose, for his hoarse growling 
came from quite another part of the yard to that where his kennel 
was fixed ; and I stood outside the door, between two enemies, as 
a faint streak of light shot out through the keyhole, playing 
strangely upon the bright handle of the key. 

Are you there, Antony ? Come back this moment, sir. Un- 
lock this door.” 

1 did not answer, but stood fast, as the handle was tried and 
shaken again and again. 

“ You scoundrel I come back, or it will be worse for you. Leo, 
Leo, Leo I ” 

The dog answered the indistinctly heard voice with a sharp 
burst of barking ; and as the sound came nearer, I seemed to see 
the animahs heavy bull-head, and his sharp teeth about to be 
fixed in my throat. 

The perspiration dripped from me, and in my horror I heard Mr. 
Blakeford exclaim — 

You are there, you scoundrel, I know. I heard you lock the 
door. Come in directly, or I’ll half kill you.” 

My hoarse breathing was the only sound I heard. Then, 
directly after, there were hasty steps crossing the office, and I 
knew he had gone round to reach the front. 

There was not a moment to lose, and I was about to risk the 
dog’s attack, sooner than face Mr. Blakeford, when a thought 
struck me. 

I had the little bundle loosely tied up in a handkerchief, and in 
it the bread and meat. 

This might quiet the dog ; and with a courage I did not know 
I possessed, I hastily tore it open, and taking a couple of steps 
into the yard, called out, in a loud quick voice, “ Here, Leo, Leo ! ” 
throwing the bread and meat towards where I believed the dog to 
be. 

There was a rush, a snarling whine, and the dog was close to me 
for the moment. The next, as I heard him in the darkness seize 
the meat, I was across the yard, with one foot on the pump, and 
as I raised myself the front door was flung open, and I heard Mr, 
Blakeford rush out. 


44 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


CHAPTER IX. 

ON THE ROAD TO LONDON. 

As Mr. Blakeford ran down to the garden gate, I reached the top 
of the wall, from whence I should have dropped down, hue that 
he was already outside, and would, I felt sure, have heard me._ If 
I had then run away, it seemed to me that it would be the easiest 
of tasks for him to pursue me, and hunt me down. 

If I stayed where I was, I felt that he would see me against the 
sky, and I knew he would pass close by me directly to reach the 
yard doors, when, half in despair, I threw myself flat down, and 
lay as close as I could, embracing the wall, and holding my bundle 
in my teeth. 

I heard him pass beneath the wall directly, and enter the yard 
by the gate, which he closed after him, before running up to the 
omce-door and unlocking it, allowing a stream of light to issue 
forth just across where the dog was peaceably eating my provender. 

Curse him, he has gone ! ” I heard Mr. Blakeford mutter, and 
my blood ran cold, as he made a hasty tour of the place. “ I’ll 
have him back if it costs me five hundred pounds,” he snarled. 
^‘Antony, Antony ! Come here, my boy, and I’ll forgive you.” 

He stopped, listening, but of course I did not move ; and then, 
in an access of rage, he turned upon the dog. 

“ You beast, what are you eating there ? ” he roared. Why 
didn’t you seize him ? Take that ! ” 

There was a dull thud as of a heavy kick, a yelp, a whine, a 
snarl, and then a dull worrying noise, as if the dog had flown at 
his master, who uttered a loud cry of pain, followed by one for 
help ; but I waited to hear no more, for, trembling in every limb, 
I had grasped my bundle and dropped from the wall, when with 
the noise growing faint behind me I ran with all my might in the 
direction of the London Road. 

Hearing steps, though, coming towards me directly after, I 
stopped short, and ran into a garden, cowering down amongst the 
shrubs, for I felt certain that whoever it was in front would be in 
Mr. Blakeford’s pay, and I waited some time after he had passed 
before continuing my flight. 

I ran on that ni^ht till there was a hot feeling of blood in my 
throat, and then I staggered up to, and leaned panting upon, a 
liedge by the roadside, listening for the sounds of pursuit. A dog 
barking in the distance sounded to me like Leo, and I felt sure that 
Mr. Blakeford was in hot chase ; then I stuml3led slowly on, but 
not for any great distance, my pace soon degenerating into a walk, 
till I regained my breath, when I ran on again for a time, but at a 
steady trot now, for I had not since heard the barking of the dog. 
Still I did not feel safe, knowing that at any moment Mr. Blake- 


ON THE ROAD TO LONDON. 


46 

ford might overtake me m bis pony-chaise, when, unless I could 
escape % running off across country, I should he ignominiously 
dragged back. 

At last, after several attempts to keep up my running, I was 
compelled to be content with a steady fast walk, and thus I trudged 
on hour after hour, till Rowford town, where I had spent so many 
wretched hours, was a long way behind. 

I had passed through two villages, but so far I had not met 
another soul since leaving Rowford, nor heard the sound of wheels. 

It was a very solitary road, leading through a pretty woodland 
tract of the country, and often, as 1 toiled on, I came to dark over- 
shadowed parts, passing through woods, and I paused, not caring 
to go on. But there was a real tangible danger in the rear which 
drove me onwards, and, daring the imaginary dangers, I pushed on 
with beating heart, thinking of robbers, poachers, and highway 
men, as I tried to rejoice that there were no dangerous wild beasts 
in England. 

At last, I could go no farther, but sank down perfectly exhausted 
upon a heap of stones that had been placed there for mending the 
road ; and, in spite of my fears of pursuit, nature would have her 
way, and I fell fast asleep. 

The sun was shining full upon me when I awoke, stiff and sore, 
wondering for a moment where 1 was ; and when at last I recalled 
all the past, I sprang up in dread, and started off at once, feeling 
that I had been slothfully wasting my opportunity, and that now 
I might at any moment be overtaken. 

As I hurried on, I looked down at ray feet, to find that my boots 
and trousers were thickly covered with dust; but there was no 
one to see me, and I kept on, awaking fully to the fact that I was 
faint and hungry. 

These sensations reminded me of the contents of the little hand- 
kerchief, and I wistfully thought of the bread and butter that I 
might have saved. 

Then I stopped short, for the recollection of one bundle reminded 
me of the other, and it was gone. Where was it ? I had it when 
I sank down upon that stone-heap, and I must have come away and 
left it behind. 

In my faint, hungry state, this discovery was terribly depressing, 
for the bundle contained my good suit of mourning, besides my 
linen and a few trifles, my only valuables in this world. 

“ I must have them back,” I thought ; and I started off to re- 
trace my steps at a run, knowing that I had come at least a couple 
of miles. 

It was dreadfully disheartening, but I persevered, gazing straight 
before me, lest I should run into danger. 

It seemed as if that stone-heap would never come into sight, but 
at last I saw it lying grey in the distant sunshine, and forgetting 


46 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GKACE. 


my hunger, I ran on till I reached the spot, and began to look 
round. 

I had expected to see the bundle lying beside the stone-heap, as 
soon as I came in sight, but there were no traces of it ; and though 
I searched round, and in the long grass at the side, there was no 
bundle. 

Yes ; I was certain that I had it when I sank down, and there- 
fore somebody must have taken it while I slept, for no one had 
passed me on the road. 

I could have sat down and cried with vexation, but I had 
pretty well outgrown that weakness; and after a final glance 
round I was about to go on again, when something a hundred 
yards nearer the town took my attention, and, running up to it, 1 
saw a pair of worn-out boots lying on the grass by the roadside. 

They seemed to be nothing to me, and, sick at heart, I turned 
back and continued my journey, longing now for the sight of some 
village, where I could buy a little milk and a few slices of bread. 

The sun was growing hot, and licking up the dew beside the 
dusty road, but it was a glorious morning, and in spite of my loss 
there was a feeling of hopefulness in my heart at being free from 
the slavery I had endured at Mr. Blakeford’s. I thought of it all, 
and wondered what Mary would say, what Hetty would think, 
and whether Mr. Blakeford would try to fetch me back. 

As I thought on, I recovered the ground I had lost, and reached 
a pretty part of the road, where it dipped down in a hollow as it 
passed through a wood. It was very delicious and shady, and the 
birds were singing as they used to sing from the woods around 
my old home ; and so sweet and full of pleasant memories were 
these sounds, that for the moment I forgot my hunger, and stood 
by a gate leading into the woods and listened. 

My reverie was broken by the sound of wheels coming up behind 
me, and taking alarm on the instant, I climbed over the gate and 
hid myself, crouching down amongst the thick bracken that 
showed its silvery green fronds around. 

I made sure it was Mr. Blakeford in pursuit, and, once secure 
of my hiding-place, I rose up gently, so that I could peer in 
between the trees and over the high bank to the sloping road, 
down which, just as I had pictured, the four-wheeled chaise was 
coming at a smart trot, with Mr. Blakeford driving, and some- 
body beside him. 

My first impulse was to turn round and dash wildly through 
the wood ; but I partly restrained myself, partly felt too much in 
dread, and crouched there, watching through the bracken till, 
as the chaise came nearer, I saw that a common, dusty, tramp- 
looking boy was seated beside Mr. Blakeford, and the next 
moment I saw that he had my bundle upon his knee. 

Fop a moment I thought I might be deceived; but no, there 


ON THE ROAD TO LONDON. 


47 


was no doubt about it. There was my bundle, sure enough, and 
that boy must have taken it from me as I lay asleep, and then 
met and told Mr. Blakeford where he had seen me. 

I was pretty nearly rig-ht, but not quite, as it afterwards proved. 
But meanwhile the chaise had passed on, Mr. Blakeford urging 
the pony to a pretty good speed, and gazing sharply to right and 
left as he went along. 

I had hardly dared to breathe as he passed, but crouched lower 
and lower, fancying that a robin hopping about on the twigs near 
seemed ready to betray me : and not until the chaise had gone 
by some ten minutes or so did I dare to sit up and think about my 
future movements. 

The recollection of the dusty, wretched look of the lad who held 
my bundle set me brushing my boots and trousers with some 
fronds of fern, and feeling then somewhat less disreputable-look- 
ing, I ventured at last to creep back into the road and look to 
right and left. 

I was terribly undecided as to what I ought to do. Go back 
I would not, and to go forward seemed like rushing straight into 
danger. To right or left was nothing but tangled wood, wherein 
1 should soon lose myself, and therefore nothing was left for me 
to do but go straight on, and this I did in fear and trembling, 
keeping a sharp look-out in front, and meaning to take to the 
woods and fields should Mr. Blakeford’s chaise again appear in sight. 

For quite an hour I journeyed on, and then the roofs of cottages 
and a church tower appeared, making me at one moment press 
eagerly forward, the next shrink back for fear Mr. Blakeford 
should be there. But at last hunger prevailed, and making a bold 
rush, I walked right on, and seeing no sign of danger, I went into 
the village shop and bought a little loaf and some wonderfully 
strong-smelling cheese. 

Did you see a gentleman go by here in a chaise ? ” I ventured 
to say. 

What, with a boy in it ? ” said the woman who served me. 

I nodded. 

Yes, he went by ever so long ago. You’ll have to look sharp 
if you want to catch them. The gentleman was asking after you.^’ 

I felt that I turned pale and red by turns, as I walked out into 
the road, wondering what it would be best to do, when, to my 
great delight I saw that there was a side lane off to the left, just 
a little way through the village, and hurrying on, I found that it 
was quite a byway off the main road. Where it led to I did not 
know, only that there was a finger-post with-the words “ To Char- 
lock Bridge ” upon it, and turning down I walked quite a couple 
of miles before, completely worn out, I sat down beside a little 
brook that rippled across the clean-washed stones of the road, and 
made the most delicious meal I ever ate in my life. 


48 


THE STORY OF ANTONY aRACE, 


Bread and oheese and spring’ water under the shade of a high 
hedge, in which a robin sat — it looked to me like t he one I had 
seen in the wood — and darted down and picked up the crumbs J 
threw it from time to time. As my hunger began to be appeased, 
and I had thoroughly slaked my burning thirst, by using my 
closed hand for a scoop, 1 began to throw crumbs into the bubbling 
brook, to see them float down for some distance, and then be 
snapped up by the silvery little fishes with which the stream 
seemed to swarm. All the while, though, my head had been 
constantly turning from side to side, in search of danger, and at 
last just as I was about to continue my journey, hoping to gain 
the London Road once more, 1 saw the danger I sought, in the 
shape of the boy with my bundle running across the fields, as if 
he had come from the high road, and was trying to get into the 
lane below me to cut me off. 

I looked sharply behind me, expecting to see the chaise of Mr. 
Blakeford, but it was not in sight; so, stooping down, I waded 
quickly through the brook, kept under the shelter of the hedge, 
and ran on steadily, so as not to be out of breath. 

The water filled my boots, but it only felt pleasantly cool, and, 
as I thought, made me better able to run, while, as I raised my 
head from time to time, I could catch sight of the boy with the 
bundle running hard across field after field, and losing so much 
time in getting through hedges or over gates that I felt that I 
should be past the spot where he would enter the lane before he 
could reach it. 

To my surprise, though, I found that the lane curved sharply 
round to the right, giving him less distance to run, so that when 
I tried hard to get by him, having given up all idea of hiding, I 
found that he had jumped over into the lane before I came up. 
Then to my horror, as I turned a sharp comer, I came straight 
upon him, he being evidently quite as much surprised as I at the 
suddenness of our encounter — the winding of the lane and the 
height of the hedges having kept us out of sight the one of the 
other, until the very last moment, when we came face to face, both 
dusty, hot, weary, and excited as two lads could be, and for the 
moment neither of us moved. 

I don’t know how it was that I did not try to run off by the 
fields in another direction, but is seems to me now that I was 
stirred by the same savage instincts as an ostrich, who, seeing 
any^hunter riding as if to cut him off, immediately forgets that 
there is plenty of room behind, and gallops across his pursuer’s 
track, instead of right away. 

As I ran panting up, the lad stopped short, and my eyes fall- 
ing upon my bundle, a new set of thoughts came flashing across 
my mind, making me forget my pursuer in the high road. 

A» for the lad, he stood staring at me in a shifty way, and it 


ON THE BOAD TO LONDON. 


49 


soon became evident that he gave as much credit for chasing 
him as I did him for chasing me. 

He was the first to speak, and calling up the low cunning of hia 
nature, he advanced a step or two, saying : 

I say, you’d better hook it ; that gent’s a-looking for you,” 

You give me my bundle,” I said, making a snatch at it, and 
getting hold with one hand, to w^hich I soon joined the other. 

’Tain’t your bundle,” he said fiercely. ‘‘ Let go, or I’ll soon 
let you know. Let go, will yer ? ” 

He shook at it savagely, and dragged me here and there, for he 
was the bigger and stronger ; but I held on with all my might. I 
was horribly frightened of him, for he was a coarse, ruffianly- 
looking fellow ; but inside that bundle was my little all, and I 
determined not to give it 

“ Here, you wait tOl I 
bundle, yer young thief 1 

“ It is not,” I panted : “ you stole it from me while I lay asleep.” 

Yer lie ! Take that ! ’’ 

That was a heavy blow on my chin which cut my lip, and 
seemed to loosen my teeth, causing me intense pain ; but though 
for a moment I staggered back, the blow had just the opposite 
effect to that intended by the boy. A few moments before, I was 
so horribly afraid of him, that I felt that I must give up ; now the 
pain seemed to have driven all the fear out of me, for, springing 
at him with clenched fists, I struck out wildly, and with all my 
might; the bundle went down in the dust, and, after a minute’s 
scuffle, and a shower of blows, there, to my intense astonishment, 
lay the boy too, grovelling and twisting about, rubbing his eyes 
with his fists, and howling dismally. 

You let me alone ; I never did nothing to you,” he whined. 

You did; you stole my bundle,” I cried, in the heat of my 
triumph. 

No, I didn’t. I on’y picked it up. I didn’t know it was yourn.” 

** You knew I was by it,” I said. 

"Yes ; but I thought perhaps it weren’t yourn,” he howled. 

"Now look here,” I said, "you give me what you took out 

©f it.” 

"I didn’t take nothing out of it,” he whined. "I was only 
going to, when that gent came along on the shay, and asked me 
where you was.” 

" You’ve got my best shoes on,” I said. " Take them off.” 

He pulled them off, having half spoiled them by cutting the 
fronts, to let his feet go in. 

" Where’s that gentleman now ? ” I said. 

"I don’t know,” he whined. "He said if T didn’t show hire 
where you was, bje’d hand me over to the police ; and I cut ofi 
across the fields, when we was walking the pony up a biU.” 


up without a struggle. 

get my knife out,” he roared. " It’s my 


60 


THE STORY OP ANTONY GRACE. 


“ You’re a nice blackguard,” I said, cooling down fast n^w, as 
the fear of Mr. Blakeford came back. I was wondering, too, how 
to get rid of my conquest, when, just as I stooped to pick up the 
shoes, he shrank away, uttering a cowardly howl, as if I had aimed 
a blow at him ; and, starting up, he ran back along the lane shoe- 
less, and seemed making for the high road. 

“ He’ll tell Mr. Blakeford,” I thought ; and catching up the 
bundle, 1 hurried on in the opposite direction, till, finding the 
brook again cross the road, I hastily stooped down and washed my 
bleeding knuckles, before starting off once more, getting rid of 
the marks of the struggle as fast as I could, and looking back from 
time to time, in momentary expectation of seeing JNIr. Blakeford’s 
head above the hedge. 


CHAPTER X. 

ALONG THE TOWING-PATH. 

I PELT in better spii'its now. My rest and breakfast, and my 
encounter with the boy, had given me more confidence in myself. 
Then, too, I had recovered my bundle, replacing in it my shoes, 
and, after carefully wrapping them up, the remains of my bread 
and cheese. 

Hour after hour I walked on, always taking the turnings that 
led to the right, in the belief that sooner or later they would bring 
me to the London Road, which, however, they never did ; and at 
last, in the afternoon, I sat down under a tree and made a second 
delicious meal. 

I passed, during the rest of that day’s journey, through a couple 
more villages, at the latter of which I obtained a large mug of 
milk for a penny ; and at last, footsore and worn out, I found my- 
self at nightfall far away in a pleasant pastoral country, where 
haymaking seemed to be carried on a good deal, from the stacks I 
passed. There were hills behind me, and hills again straight be- 
fore me, the part where I was being very level. 

What am I to do ?” I asked myself, for I could go no farther, 
and a feeling of desolation began to make my heart sink. I must 
sleep somewhere — but where ? ” 

The answer came in the shape of a haystack, one side of which 
was being cut away, and soon after, I was seated on the sweet- 
scented, soft stuff, feasting away once more, to drop at last, almost 
unconsciously, into a sweet sleep, from which I started up to find 
it quite dark, and that I was growing cold. 

There was plenty of loose straw close by, as if threshing had 
been going on, and taking my bundle for a pillow, and nestling 




ALONG THE TOWING-PATH. 


61 


beneath the straw which I drew over the hay, I was soon fast 
asleep once more, only to wake up rested and refreshed as the birds 
were singing cheerily upon another sunshiny morning. 

My toilet consisted in getting rid of the bits of straw and hay, 
after which 1 started to walk on once more, following a winding 
lane, which brought me out at a wooden bridge, crossing a river, 
down by whose pebbly side I finished my toilet, and rose refreshed 
and decent-looking, for my bundle contained my brush and comb. 

There was a little public-house on the other side of the stream, 
with cows in a field hard by, and directing my steps there, after 
stopping on the bridge for a few minutes to gaze at the fish 
glancing in the sunshine, I found I could buy some bread and 
milk, the privilege being given me of sitting down on a bench and 
watching the sparkling river as I made my breakfast. 

With every mouthful came hope and confidence. I felt as if 1 
really was free, and that all I now had to do was to trudge steadily 
on to London. How long it would take me I did not knc)w — 
perhaps a month. But it did not matter ; I could continue to be 
very sparing of my money, so as to make it last. 

It was a red-armed, apple-faced woman who gave me the mug, 
and she stared at me curiously, frightening me so much, lest she 
should ask me questions, that I hastily finished my milk, and, pick- 
ing up the bread, said “ good morning,” and walked along by the 
side of the river, there being here a towing-path, upon which I 
soon encountered a couple of horses, the foremost of which was 
ridden by a boy with a whip, while they dragged a long rope 
which kept plashing down into the river, and then, being drawn 
taut, showered down pearly drops of water, which seemed to be 
smoothed out by a long, low, narrow barge, painted yellow and 
red, at the end of which was a man smoking, with his eyes half 
shut, as he leaned upon the tiller gear. 

They were going against the stream, and their progress was 
slow, as I sat down and watched them go out of sight round t he 
bend of the river. 

“ I wonder where this river runs to, and where I should go, if 
I walked all along this path ?” I said to myself, and then like a 
fiash, the idea came, right or wrong, I could not tell, that it must 
go on and on to London. 

It was full of hope, that thought; so full that I haped up, and 
trudged on so steadily, that at the end of an hour 1 again saw a 
couple of horses in front, drawing another barge, with the rope 
plashing in and out of the river ; but this barge was going on in 
the same direction as I was, and as 1 drew nearer I began to envy 
the boy riding so idly on the foremost horse, and wished it were 
my fate to change places with him, for one of my feet was very 
sore. 

It pained me a good deal ; but, all the same, there was a joyous 

4— y 


52 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


feeling’ of freedom to cheer me on, and I limped forward, thinking 
how 1 had nothing to fear now, no dreary copying to do, and then 
stand shivering, expecting blows, if I had omitted a word, or for- 
gotten to cross some t. All was bright and beautiful, with the 
glancing river, the glorious green meadows, and the gliding barge 
going so easily with the stream. 

There was a stolid-looking man holding the tiller of the barge, 
staring dreamily before him, and smoking, looking as motionless, 
and smoking nearly as much, as the chimney of the cabin beside 
him. The barge itself was covered with great tarred cloths of a 
dingy black, but the woodwork about the cabin was ornamented 
with yellow and scarlet diamonds and ovals carved in the sides. 

The man took not the slightest notice of me as I limped on, 
gazing at h/m and the gliding barge, but smoked away steadily, 
and I went on, getting nearer and nearer to the horses, thinking 
as T did sc of how pleasant it would be to lie down on that black 
tarpaulin, and glide along upon the shiny river without a care ; 
and it seemed to me then, ill-used and weary as 1 was, that the 
life of a bargeman would be perfect happiness and bliss. 

As I drew near the boy, who was sitting sidewise on the fore- 
most horse, with a shallow round-bottomed zinc bucket hanging 
from the collar on the other side, 1 found that he was watching 
me as he whistled some doleful minor ditty, pausing every now 
and then to crack his whip and utter a loud “ Jeet 1 ” 

This was evidently a command to the horses, one of which gave 
its head a toss up and the other a toss down, but paid no further 
heed, both continuing their steady way along the tow-path, while 
the boy went on with his whistling. 

I gradually drew up closer and closer, as the whistling kept on, 
to find that about every minute, as if calculated exactly, but of 
course from mere habit, there was the crack of the whip, the loud 

Jeet ! ” and the nod up and nod down of the two horses. 

I trudged up close alongside the boy now, being anxious to 
learn where the river really did run, but not liking at first to show 
my ignorance, so we went on for some time in silence. 

He was a rough, common-looking lad, with fair curly hair, and 
the skin of his face all in scaly patches where it had lieen blistered 
by the sun, and I took him to be about my own age. He was 
dressed in a loose jacket and a pair of cord trousers, both of which 
were several sizes too large for him, but the jacket-sleeves had 
been cut off above the elbow, and the trousers were rolled up 
above his knees, showing his bare legs and clean white feet. His 
coarse shirt w^as clean, what could be seen of it, but the tops of the 
trousers were drawn up by strings over his shoulders, so that they 
took the place of vest. 

Altogether, even to his old, muddy, torn felt hat, through 
which showed tufts of his curly hair, he was ragged to a degree ; 


63 


ALONG THE TOWING-PATH. 

\ 

but he seemed as happy as the day was long and as healthy as 
could be, as he whistled away, stared at me, and uttered another 
loud Jeet!*’ going a little further this time, and making it 
" J eet, Sammy — jeet, Tommair-y I ” 

The horses this lime tightened the rope a little, but only for a 
few moments, when it fell back into the water with a plash, the 
barge glided on, the horses’ hoofs crushed the sandy gravel, and 
the rope whisked and rustled as it brushed along the thick growth 
of sedge by the water side. 

“ Woss the matter with yer foot, matey ? ” said the boy at last, 
breaking the ice as he gave his whip another crack, and then 
caught and examined the thong. 

Sore with walking,” I said ; and then there was another pause, 
during which he kept on whistling the minor air over and over 
again, while I waited for another opening. 

Why don’t you take off your shoes, matey ? ” he said. They 
alius makes my feet sore. I don’t like shoes. Jeet, Tommair-y ! 
Jeet, Sam-mair-y ! ” 

This was a new light, and I thought, perhaps, I should be easier, 
for one shoe was constantly scraping the tendon at the back of my 
heel. So sitting down on the grass, I untied and slipped off my 
shoes, my socks following, to be thrust into my pocket, and I 
limped on, setting my feet delicately on the gravel, which hurt 
them, till I changed on to the short soft turf beside the path. 

The barge had passed me, but I soon overtook it, and then 
reached the boy, who watched me complacently as I trudged on, 
certainly feeling easier. 

^^One on ’em’s a-bleeding,” said my new friend then. Shoes 
alius hurts. Jeet!” 

“ Yes, when you walk far,” I said, the conversation beginning 
to warm now. 

‘‘ Wallfed far, matey ? ” 

"Yes, ever so far. Have you come far P" 

" Pistol,” I thought he said. 

"WhereP”Iasked. 

" Bristol. J eet, Sammy ! ” Crack ! 

" All along by the river ? ” 

"We don't call it the river, we call it the canal her«k It's 
river farther up towards London.” 

Are you going to London ? ” I said. 

"Yes. Are you ? ” 

" Yes,” I said ; and my heart was at rest,, for I knew now that 
which I wanted to find out without asking. This river did go 
right to London, and I must be on the upper part of the Thames. 

We went on for some little time in silence, and then my new 
friend began : 

" Why don't you go and paddle yer feet in the water a bit P” 


54 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


It was a good suggestion, and the shallow sparkling water 
looked very delicious and cool. 

“Tie your shoestrings together and hing ’em on to Tommy’s 
collar. You can hing yer bundle, tpo, if yer li-ak.” 

I hesitated for a moment. One boy had already appropriated 
my bundle, but he had not the frank honest look of the one on the 
horse, and besides, I did not like to seem suspicious. So, tying 
the shoestrings together, I hung them on the tall hame of the 
collar, and the bundle beside them, before going quickly over the 
gravel down to the shallow water. 

‘^Turn up yer trousers I ” shouted the boy; and I obeyed hfe 
good advice, ending by walking along the shallow water close 
behind the tow-rope, the soft sand feeling delicious to my feet 
the cool water laved and eased the smarting wound. 

At last I walked out with my feet rested, and the blood-staui 
washed away, to run forward and join my companion, who looked 
at me in a very stolid manner. 

“ Hev a ride ? ” he said at last. 

“May I?” 

“ Fey-ther ! ” 

“ Hel-lo-a ! ” came slowly from the barg«, 

“ May this chap hev a ri-ad ? ” 

“ Ay-er I ” 

The boy slipped down off the horse with the greatest ease, 
stuck his whip into a link of the trace. 

“ Now, then,” he said, “ lay holt o’ his collar, and I’ll give yer 
a leg up.” 

I obeyed him, and seizing my leg, he nearly shot me right over 
the horse, but by hanging tightly on to the collar I managed W 
save myself, and shuffled round into the proper position for riding 
sidewise, feeling the motion of the horse, in spite of a certailf 
amount of boniness of spine, delightfully easy and restful. 

“ They’re all right,” the boy said, as I glanced at my bundle, 
“ They won’t fall off. Are yer comf’able ? ” 

“ Yes, capital,” I said, and we journeyed on, my luck seeming 
almost too good to be believed. 

We went on talking away, now and then passing another barge, 
when the ropes w^ere passed one over the other boat, and the 
journey continued. 

Soon afterwards I made my first acquaintance with a lock, and 
got down off the horse to stand by the barge and gaze in wonder- 
ment at the process. As it glided softly into the space between 
walls, a pair of great doors were shut behind it, and I and my 
new companion helped to turn handles, with the result that I saw 
the water foam and rush out, and the barge slowly sink down to 
a lower level, when a couple of great doors were swung open at 
the othOT end. There was a certain amount of pushing and 


ALONG THE TOWING-PATH. 


55 


thrustingr, and the barge glided out into the river ten feet lower 
than it was before. 

Then the rope was once more made fast, the horses tugged, and 
we went on again, but not far before a shrill voice shouted 
“Jack!” and my companion stood still till the barge came 
abreast of him, being steered close in, when I saw a woman lean 
over the side and hold out a basket, which the boy caught, and 
then ran after me once more, where I was mounted on the first 
horse. 

“ My dinner,” he said eagerly. “ Got yourn ? ” 

“ Yes,” I said, colouring up as I pulled the remains of my bread 
and cheese out of my pocket, there being a large piece of the 
latter. 

“ Steak pudden to-day,” said my companion, hanging his basket 
on to the collar by my knee, and revealing a basin half full of 
savoury-odoured beef-steak pudding, which was maddening to me 
in my hungry state. 

“ I say, what a whacking great piece of cheese ! I like cheese,” 
said my companion ; “ let’s go halves.” 

Pride kept me hack for a moment, and then I said — 

“ ril give you threepence if you’ll give me haK your dinner.” 

“ I don’t want your threepence,” he said scornfully. You 
shall have half if you give me half your new bread and cheese. 
Gum’s alius stale. Look, here’s some cold apple puli too.” 

So there was, and delicious it looked, sufficiently so to make my 
mouth water. 

“ Got a knife, matey ?” 

“ Yes,” I said, “ but ” ^ 

“ I say, I tell you what,” said my would-be host. “ Have you 
really got threepence ? ” 

“ Yes,” I said, and was about to say more, when Mr. Rowle’s 
words occurred to me and I was silent. 

“ Then we’ll have half a pint o’ cider at the next lock, and 
twopen’orth o’ apples, shall us ? ” 

“ Yes,” I said, delighted at the prospect; and the result was 
that we two hearty boys soon finished pudding, puli, and the last 
scrap of the bread and cheese, after which my new friend shouted, 
“ Mother 1 ” The boat was steered in close, and the shrill- voiced 
woman took the basket back. 

“ Is your name Jack P ” I said, as I descended, and we trudged 
on together slowly beside the horses, each of which was now 
furnished with a tin bucket hung from the top of its head, and 
containing some beans and chaff. 

“ Yes ; what’s yourn ? ” 

“Antony ” 

“Ho!” 

There was silence after this, for we came up to another lock, 


56 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. ' 


close by which was a little public-house, where Jack was sen^ to 
get a stone bottle filled with beer, and up to whose dooi he 
summoned me, and we partook of our half-pint of cider, Jack 
proving most honourable as to his ideas of half. 

Then the beer having been passed on board. Jack’s mother and 
father taking not the slightest notice of me, the barge was passed 
through the lock, and Jack beckoned and waved his hand. 

“ You give me the twopence, and I’ll buy,” he said. “If we 
ask Mother Burke for twopen’orth all at once she won’t give us 
more than she would for a penny. Stop a moment,” he said, “ you 
only give me a penny, and we’ll keep t’other for to-morrow.” 

I handed a penny to him, and we went into the lock cottage, in 
whose lattice window were displayed two bottles of ginger-beer, 
a couple of glasses of sugar-sticks, and a pile of apples. 

Our penny in that out-of-the-way place bought us a dozen good 
apples, and these we munched behind the horses as we trudged on 
slowly, mile after mile. 

I did not feel tired now, and we boys found so much to talk 
about that the time went rapidly by. Jack’s father and mother 
did not trouble themselves about my being there, but towards six 
o’clock handed the boy out his tea in a bottle, whose neck stuck 
out of the basket that had held his dinner, and in which were 
some half a dozen slices of bread and butter. 

“’Tain’t full,” said Jack, holding the bottle up to the light; 
“she might ha’ filled it. There is more brem-butter. Never 
mind, I’ll fill it up with water. You won’t mind ? ” 

“ No,” I said ; but as a lock was then coming in sight, and a 
decent-looking village, an idea occurred to me. “ Let’s buy a 
pen’orth of milk and put to it,” I said. 

Jack’s eyes sparkled, and hanging the basket pro tern, on the 
hames, he cracked his whip, and we proceeded a little more quickly 
towards the lock, where I bought a twopenny loaf and some milk 
for our tea. I say ours, for Jack literally shared his with me. 

“ Where are you going to sleep P ” said Jack to me at last, as 
the evening mists were beginning to rise on the meadows. 

“ I don’t know,” I said rather dolefully, for the idea had not 
occurred to me before. 

“ Come and bunl^ along o’ me.” 

“Where?” I asked. 

“ Under the tarpaulin in front o’ the barge,” be said ; “ I alius 
sleeps there now, cos father says my legs gets in the way in the 
cabin.” 

“ But would your father mind ?” 

“ Not he. He’ll go ashore as soon as we make fast for the night 
and lets the horses loose to feed. He wouldn’t mind.” 

And so it turned out, for the barge was made fast to a couple of 
stout posts in a wider part of the canal, close to a lock where there 


mr VAGABOND LIFE COMES TO AN END. 


57 


wa« a public-house. The horses were turned out to graze on the 
thick grass beside the tow-path, and after a little liesitation I took 
my bundle and shoes and crept in beneath a tarpaulin raised up in 
the middle to make quite a tent, which Jack had contrived in the 
fore part of the barge. 

Ain’t it jolly and snug ? ” he cried. 

" Y e-es,” I replied. 

“ On’y it wonT do to stop in when the sun gets on it, 'cos it’s so 
hot and sticky. I like it. Feyther can’t kick you here.” 

This was a revelation. I had been thinking Jack’s life must be 
one of perfect bliss. 

“ Does your father kick you, then P ” 

Not now. He used to when he came home after being to the 
public, when he was cross ; but he didn’t mean nothing. Feyther’s 
werry fond o’ me. I wouldn’t go back to sleep in the cabin now 
for no money.” 

Jack’s conversation suddenly stopped, and I knew by his hard 
breathing that he was asleep : but I lay awake for some time, 
peering out through a little hole left by the tarpaulin folds at the 
stars, thinking of Mr. Blakeford and his pursuit ; of what Mary 
would say when she read my letter ; and from time to time I 
changed the position of my bundle, to try and turn into a 
comfortable pillow ; but, try how I would, it seemed as if the 
heel of one or other of my shoes insisted upon getting under my 
ear, and I dropped asleep at last, dreaming that. they were walking 
all over my head. 


CHAPTER XI. 

MT VAGABOND LIFE COMES TO AN END. 

Somehow or other that idea about my boots being in antagonism 
to me seemed to pervade the whole of my slumbers till morning, 
when one of them, I fancied, had turned terribly vicious, and was 
kicking me hard in the side. 

I could not move, and the kicking seemed to go on, till a more 
vigorous blow than before roused me to consciousness ; but stiU 
for a few moments I could not make out where I was, only that 
it was very dark and stuffy, and that I felt stiff and sore. 

J ust then a gruff voice awoke my mind as well as my body, and 
I found that some one was administering heavy pokes through 
the tarpaulin with what seemed to be a piece of wood. 

All right, feyther,” cried Jack just then ; and as we scrambled 
out from beneath the tent I found it was grey dawn, that a heavy 
mist hung over the river, and that Jack’s father had been poking 




68 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


at the tarpaulin with the end of a hitcher, the long- iron-shod pole 
used in navigating the barge. 

“ Going to lie abed all day ? ” he growled. “ Git them horses 
to.” 

" Come along, matey ; never mind your boots,” cried Jack, and 
he leaped ashore. 

I did not like leaving my bundle behind, but I felt bound to 
help, and following Jack’s example, I helped him to catch the 
horses, which were soon attached to the tow-line thrown ashore 
by the bargeman, who cast loose the mooring ropes, and with 
the stars still twinkling above our heads we were once more on 
our way, Jack walking beside the horse and I barefooted beside 
him. 

My feet did not pain me now, but I felt that to replace my 
boots would be to chafe them again, so I contented myself with 
letting them ride, while for the present I made my way afoot. 

My proceedings as we went along seemed to greatly interest 
Jack, who stared hard as he saw me stoop down and wash my 
face and hands at a convenient place in the river, for a shake and 
a rub of his curly head seemed to constitute the whole of his 
toilet. My hair I smoothed as I walked by his side, while he 
looked contemptuously at my little pocket-comb. 

^^That wouldn’t go through my hair,” he said at last. Then in 
the same breath, “ Old woman’s up.” 

I turned to see how he knew it, expecting his mother to be on 
the little deck; but the only thing visible besides Jack’s father 
was a little curl of smoke from the iron chimney in front of the 
rudder. 

“That means brakfass,” said Jack, grinning ; “don’t you want 
yourn 

I said I did, and asked how soon we should get to a lock where 
I could buy some bread and milk. 

“Don’t you waste your money on bread and milk,” said my 
companion, “there’ll be lots o’ brakfass for both on us. You 
wait till we get farther on and we can get some apples and a bottle 
of ginger-beer.” 

It seemed so fair an arrangement that when the shrill voice 
summoned Jack to fetch his breakfast I shared it with him, and 
so I did his dinner and tea, while we afterwards regaled ourselves 
with fruit, and sweets, and cider, or ginger-beer. 

This went on day after day, for though the pace was slow I 
found that I could not have got on faster. Besides which, I had 
endless rides. Jack’s proceedings with me never once seeming to 
awaken either interest or excitement on the part of his parents. 
In fact, Jack’s father seemed to occupy the whole of his time in 
leaning upon the tiller and smoking, with the very rare exceptions 
that he might occasionally make use of the hitcher in rounding 


MY VAGABOND LIFE COMES TO AN END. 


69 


some corner. As for the passing of other barges, the men upon 
them seemed to do the greater part of the necessary work in lifting 
tow-ropes. At the locks, too, he would stolidly stare at Jack and 
me as we turned the handles with the lock-keeper, and then 
perhaps grunt approval. 

Jack’s mother appeared to spend all her time in cooking and 
other domestic arrangements, for she never showed herself on 
deck except to announce the readiness of a meal by a shrill shout 
for her hoy, rarely speaking a word to him at such times as he 
took his food from her hands. 

Life on the river seemed to breed taciturnity, and though we 
boys generally had something to say, for the most part we jogged 
on silently with tne horses, who hung their heads and kept on 
their course as if half asleep. 

To me it was a dreamy time of constant journeying by the 
shining river ; for at last we passed through a lock into the Isis, 
and then continued our way on and on through locks innumerable 
till we passed out again into what I suppose must have been the 
Grand Junction or Regent’s Canal — to this day I am not sure 
which. The hundred miles or so I was to have walked to London 
must have been more than doubled by the turnings and doublings 
of the river; but I was never tired, and Jack never wearied of 
my society. There was always something to see in the ever- 
changing scenery, and sometimes, if we came to a stoppage early 
in the evening. Jack brought out a rough line and a willow wand, 
and we fished for perch by some rushing weir. 

1 could have been content to go on for ever leading such a free, 
enjoyable life, like some young gipsy, so peaceable and happy 
seemed my existence as compared to that with Mr. Blakeford ; 
but at last, after a very long, slow journey, we began to near the 
metropolis, the goal of my wanderings, and one evening the 
pleasant commumngs of Jack and myself were suddenly brought 
to an end. 

We had been making slow progress along the canal as it wound 
now amongst houses and large buildings. The pleasant fields were 
far behind, and the water was no longer bright. It seemed, too, 
as if we had left the sun behind, while the tow-path had long 
grown so hard and rough that 1 was glad to get my boots out 
of the bundle in which they were tied up and wear them once 
again. 

Here, you sir,” Jack’s father shouted to me from the barge, 
**you must sheer off now.” 

It was said in a rough, peremptory fashion that was startling ; 
but he took no further notice of me, only went on smoking, and I 
went back to Jack, who was now seated on the horse just as at 
our first meeting. 

** Fey ther say yon must go now f ” 


60 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Yes,” I said dolefully. 

** Then you’d better cut off. I say, feytherl ” 

“Hullo!” 

“Lash the tiller, and go and get bis bundle and chuclt it ashore.* 

The great rough fellow methodically did as he was told — 
fastening the rudder, going slowly forward, and fishing out my 
bimdle from under the tarpaulin, and turning to me : 

“ Ketch 1 ” he shouted, and he threw the bundle from the barge 

the shore, where 1 caught it, and he slowly plodded back, after 
giving me a friendly nod. 

I took my bundle under ray arm and rejoined Jack, who was 
wliistling his minor air, and then we boys looked at each other 
dolefully. 

“ Aintcher going?” said Jack at last. 

“Yes,” I said, “I’m going directly.” Then, quickly pulling 
out a little penknife I had in my pocket, I held it to Jack. “ Will 
you have that. Jack?” I said. 

His eyes sparkled as he took it, but he did not speak. 

“ Do you think I might give your father something for letting 
me come up along with you ? ” I said. 

Jack stared in a dull, stolid way for a moment, the idea being 
so novel to him. Then his face lit up and he checked the horses. 

“ Hold on, feyther,” he shouted ; and as if it was quite right to 
obey his son’s words, the great fellow steered the long barge so 
that it came close in. 

“ There’s a beer-shop,” said Jack, pointing to a place close by 
the towing-path, all glorious with blue and gold announcements 
of Barclay, Perldns & Co.’s Entire. “ You go and get a pot o’ 
porter — it’s threepence ha’penny, mind— and give it the old man ; 
we’ll wait.” 

I ran up to the door of the public-house and asked the man in 
shirt-sleeves and white apron for a pot of porter, which he drew 
in the bright pewter vessel, and I paid for it with one of my six'- 
pences, received ray change, and then had to make solemn assu- 
rance that I would bring back the pot before I was allowed 
to take it down to the canal-side, where Jack and his father were 
waiting. 

The latter’s face was as stolid as ever as I went up to him ; but 
there was a little extra opening of his eyes as he saw the foaming 
liquid in the bright pewter and stretched out his hand. 

“ Beer ain’t good for boys,” he said gruffly ; and then, blowing 
off the froth, he put the vessel to his lips, and slowly poured it all 
down, without stopping, to the very last drop ; after which he 
uttered a heavy sigh of either pleasure or regret, and brought hia 
eyes to bear on me. 

“ Feyther likes a drop p’ beer,” said .Tack. 

“ Ketch 1 ” said “ father,” and he threw the empty pot tA m3. 


MY FIRST NIGHT IN TOWN. 61 

which luckily I caught, and stood watching him as he went to the 
tiller, “ Go on ! ” 

Jack gave me a nod, cracked his whip, and the horses drew the 
slack rope along the ciudery tow-path till it was tight. Jack’s 
father paused in the act of refilling his pipe and gave me another 
nod, and Jack’s mother’s head came above the hatchway to stare 
at me as the barge moved, and I stood watching it with my 
bundle under my arm and the bright pewter vessel in my hand. 

My reverie was interrupted by a shout from the public-house 
door, and I took the pot back, to return once more to the towing- 
path, sick at heart and despondent, as I thought of the pleasant 
days of my short vagabond career. 

It was like parting with very good friends, and I sat down at last 
upon a log, one of a pile of timber, full of regrets ; for these rough 
people had in their way been very kind to me, and I thought that 
perhaps I should never see them any more. 


CHAPTER XII. 

MY FIRST NIGHT IN TO'WN, 

I DID not sit thinking long, for I felt that I must he up and doing. 
The long barge had crept silently away and was out of sight, but 
I felt that after my dismissal I ought not to follow it; so 1 crossed 
a bridge over the canal and went on and on between rows of 
houses and along streets busy with vehicles coming and going, 
and plenty of people. 

For the first half-hour I felt that everybody knew me and was 
staring at the boy who had run away from Mr. Blakeford’s office ; 
but by degrees that idea passed off and gave place to another, 
namely, that I was all alone in this great city, and that it seemed 
ve^ solitary and strange. 

For above an hour I walked on, with the streets growing 
thicker and the noise and bustle more confusing. I had at last 
reached a busy thoroughfare ; gas was burning, and the shops 
looked showy and attractive. The one, however, that took my 
attention was a coffee-shop in a side street, with a great teapot in 
the window, and a framed card on which I read the list of prices, 
and found that a half-pint cup of coffee would be one penny, and 
a loaf and butter twopence. 

IMy money was getting scarce, but I was tired and hungry, and 
after staring at that card for a long time I thought I would 
venture to go in, and walked right up to the door. 1 dared, how- 
ever, go no farther, but walked straight on, turned, and came back, 
and so on several timet, without being able to make up my mind ; 


62 


THE STORY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


but at last, as I was still hovering about the place, I caught sight 
of a policeman advancing in the distance, and, fully assured that 
it must be Mary’s friend, Mr. Revitts, in search of me, I walked 
breathlessly into the coffee-house and sat down at the nearest 
table. 

There were several men and lads seated about, but they were 
all, to my great relief, reading papers or periodicals, and I was re- 
covering my equanimity somewhat, when it was upset by a bust- 
ling maid, who came as I thought fiercely up to me with a sharp 
“ What’s for you ? ” 

** A cup of coffee, if you please,” I stammered out. 

“ And roll and butter F ” 

Yes, please,” I said, somewhat taken aback that she should, as 
I felt, have divined my thoughts ; and then, in an incredibly short 
space of time, a large cup of steaming coffee and a roll and pat of 
butter were placed on the table. 

After timidly glancing round to find that it was no novel thing 
for any one to enter a coffee-house and partake of the fare before 
me, I proceeded to make my meal, wishiiig all the while that Jack 
had been there to share it, and wondering where he was, till at 
last the coffee was all drunk, the roll and butter eaten, and after 
paying what was due I stole off once more into the streets. I 
went on and on in a motiveless way, staring at the wonders ever 
unfolding before me, till, utterly wearied out, the thought struck 
me that I must find a resting-place somewhere, for there were no 
hay-stacks here, there was no friendly tarpaulin to share with 
Jack, and, look where I would, nothing that seemed likely to sug- 
gest a bed. 

I had wandered on through wide, well-lighted streets, and 
through narrow, poverty-stricken places, till I was in a busy, noisy 
row, along the pavement of which were broad barrows with flam- 
ing lamps, and laden with fish, greengrocery, and fruit. There 
was noise enough to confuse anyone used to London ; to me it 
w'as absolutely deafening. 

I had seen by a clock a short time before that it was nearly ten, 
and my legs ached so that I could scarcely stand ; and yet, in the 
midst of the busy throng of people hurrying here and there, I 
alone seemed to be without friend or home. 

I had been wandering about in a purposeless way for a long 
time, trying to see some one who would win my confidence enough 
to make me ask where I could obtain a night’s lodging, when I 
suddenly became aware that a big lad with a long narrow face and 
little eyes seemed to be watching me, and I saw what seemed to 
me so marked a resemblance to the young scoundrel who had 
stolen my bundle, that I instinctively grasped it more tightly and 
hurried away. 

On glancing back, I found that the boy was following, and this 


30' FIRST NIGHT IN TOWN. 


03 


uairmed me so that I hastened back into the big street, walked 
ilong some distance, then turned and ran as hard as I could up 
me street and down another, till at last I was obliged to stop and 
listen to make sure whether I was pursued. 

To my horror I heard advancing steps, and I had just time to 
shrink back into a doorway before, by the dim light of the gas, 1 
saw the lad I sought to avoid run by, and as soon as his heavy 
boots had ceased to echo, I crept out and ran in the other direc- 
tion, till, completely worn out, I sat down upon a doorstep in a 
deserted street, and at last dropped off fast asleep. 

I was startled into wakefulness by a strange glare shining in 
my face, and, looking up, there was a round glowing eye of light 
seeming to search me through and through. 

For a few moments I could do nothing but stare helplessl'^ and 
then started nervously as a gruff voice exclaimed — 

“ Here ; what’s in that bundle ? ” 

My clothes and clean shirt, sir,” I faltered. 

“ Let’s look.” 

My hands shook so that I was some time before I could get the 
handkerchief undone; but in the meantime 1 had been able to 
make out that the speaker was a policeman, and in my confusion 
at being awakened out of a deep sleep, 1 associated his coming 
with instructions from Mr. Blakeford. 

At last, though, I laid my bundle open on the step, and my 
questioner seemed satisfied. 

“Tie it up,” he said, and I hastened to obey. “Now, then, 
young fellow,” he continued, “ how is it you are sitting here 
asleep ? Why don’t you go home ? ” 

“ Please, sir, I came up from the coimtiy to-day, and I ran away 
from a boy who wanted to steal my bundle, and tlien I sat down 
and fell asleep.” 

“That’s a likely story,” he said, making the light of the lantern 
play upon ray face. “ Where were you going ? ” 

“ I don’t know, sir. Yes I do — to Mr. Howie’s." 

“ And where’s Mr. Rowle’s ? ” 

“ It’s — it’s — stop a minute, sir. I’ve got the address written 
down. It’s at a great printing-office.” 

As I spoke I felt in my pockets one after the other for the ad- 
dress of Mr. Rowle’s brother, but to my dismay I foimd that i1 
was gone, and, search how I would, there was no sign of it in 
either pocket. At last I looked up f’Hl in the policeman’s face, tc 
exclaim pitifully — 

“ Please, sir, it’s gone.” 

“ Is it now ? ” he said in a bantering, sneering tone. “ That’s a 
wonder, that is: specially if it wam’t never there. Look here,youn| 
fellow, what have you come to London for ? ” 

“ Please, sir, I’ve come to seek ray fortune.” 


G4 


THE STORY OR ANTONY GRACE. 


** Oh, you have, have you ? Now look here, which are yo- 
young innocent from tlie country, or an artful one? You may jn^.t 
as well speak out, for I’m sure to find out all about it.” 

Indeed IVe come up from the country, sir, to Iry and get a 
place, for I was so unhappy down there.” 

“ Then you’ve run away from your father and mother, eh P ” 

No, sir ; they are both dead.” 

** Well, then, you’ve run away from home, eh ? ” 

“ No, sir,” I said sadly ; “ I haven’t any home.” 

Well, what’s got to be done ? You can’t stop here all night.” 

** Can’t I, sir ? ” 

** Can’t you, sir ? Why, what a young gooseberry it is I Have 
you been to London before ? ” 

“ No, sir.” 

When did you come up P ” 

** Only this evening, sir.” 

And don’t you know that if I leave you here some one’ll have 
your bundle, and perhaps you too, before morning ?” 

I was so tired, sir, I fell asleep.” 

Come along o’ me. The best thing I can do for you’s to lock 
you up till morning.” 

“ Thank you, sir.” 

He burst out into a roar of laughter as he turned off the light 
of his bull’s-eye. 

Come along, youngster,” he said, “ it’s all right, I see. Why, 
you are as green as a gooseberry.” 

Am I, sir?” I said piteously, for I felt very sorry that I was 
so green, as he called it, but I was too much confused to thoroughly 
understand what he meant. 

Greener, ever so much. Why, if you’d gone down Covent 
Garden to sleep amongst the baskets you’d have got swept up for 
cabbage leaves.” 

Covent Garden Market, sir ? Is that close here ?” I said. 

As if you didn’t know,” he replied, returning to his doubting 
vein. 

I’ve heard my papa speak of it,” I said, eager to convince him 
that I was speaking the truth. He said the finest of all the 
fruit in the country went there, and that the flowers in the central 
— central ” 

Evenue ? ” suggested the constable. 

“ Yes, central avenue — were always worth a visit.” 

That’s so. And that’s what your papa said, eh P ” 

‘‘ Yes, sir, I have heard him say so more than once.” 

** Then don’t you think, young fellow, as it looks very suspicious 
for a young gent as talks about his papa to be found sleeping on 
a doorstep P ” 

** Yes, sir, I suppose it does,” I said, but I have no friends now,” 


MY FIRST NIGHT IN TOWN. 65 

“Well, you’d better come along o’ me, and tell your tale to the 
inspector. I’m not going to leave you here. He’ll soon get to 
know, the rights of it. You’ve run away, that’s what you’ve 
done.” 

“ Yes, sir,” I said ; “ I did run away, but ” 

“ Never mind the buts, youngster. You’ll have to be sent back 
to your sorrowing friends, my absconding young eloper.” 

“ No, no, no ! ” I cried wildly, as he took hold of my cufl. 
“ Don’t send me back, pray don’t send me back. ’ 

“None o’ that ’ere now,” he said, giving me a rough shake. 
“ You just come along quietly.” 

“ Oh, I will, sir, indeed I will ! ” I cried, “but don’t, pray don’t 
send me back.” 

“ Why not ? How do you know but it won’t be best for yer P 
You come along o’ me sharp, and we’ll soon physic your constitu- 
tion into a right state.” 

The' agony of dread that seized me at that moment was more 
than I could bear. In imagination T saw myself dragged back to 
Mr. Blakeford, and saw the smile of triumph on his black-looking 
face, as he had me again in his power, and, boy as I was then, and 
full of young life and hopefulness, I believe that I would gladly 
have jumped into the river sooner than have had to trust to his 
tender mercies again. 

In my horror, then, I flung myself on my knees before the 
policeman, and clasped his leg as I appealed wildly to him to let 
me go. 

“ If you sent me back, sir,” I cried piteously, “ he’d kill me.” 

“And then we should kill him,” he said, laughing. “Not as 
that would be much comfort to you. Here, get up.” 

“ You don’t know what I suffered, sir, after poor papa and 
mamma died. He used me so cruelly, and he beat me, too, 
dreadfully. And now, after I have run away, if he gets me back 
he will be more cruel than before.” 

“Well, I s’pose he wouldn’t make it very pleasant for you, 
youngster. There, come ; get up, and you shall tell the inspector, 
too, all about it.” 

“ No, no, no,” I cried wildly, as in spite of his efforts to get me 
up I still clung to his leg. 

“ Come, none of that, you know. I shall have to carry you. 
Get up.” 

He seized me more roughly, and dragged me to my feet, when 
with a hoarse cry of dread, I made a dash to escape, freed my arm 
and ran for freedom once again, as if it were for my life. 


G6 


THE STOEY OP ANTONY GEACE, 


CHAPTEE Xm. 

P.C. BBVITTS; 

In my blind fear of capture I did not study which way I went, 
but doubling down the first turning I came to, I ran on, and then 
along the next, to stop short directly afterwards, being sharply 
caught by the constable from whom I had fled, and who now 
held me fast. 

“ Ah I you thought it, did you ? ” he said coolly, while, panting 
and breathless, I feebly struggled to get away. “ But it won’t do, 
ray lad. You’ve got to come along o’ me.” 

And then I shall be sent back,” I cried, as I tried to wrestle 
myself free. “ I’ve never done any harm, sir ; and he’U half kill 
me. You don’t know him. Pray let me go.” 

“ I know you to be a reg’lar young coward,” he said roughly. 

Why, when 1 was your age, I shouldn’t have begun snivelling 
like this. Now, then, look here. You ain’t come to London only 
to see your Mr. Hot Poll, or whatever you call him. Is there 
any one else you know as I can take you to ? I don’t want to 
lock you up.” 

^^No, sir, nobody,” I faltered. ‘^Yes, there is — there’s Mr. 
Revitts.” 

“Mr. who?” 

“ Mr. Revitts, sir,” I said excitedly. “ He’s a policeman, like 
you.” 

“ Ah, that’s something like a respectable reference 1 ” he said. 
“ What division P ” 

“ What did you say, sir P” 

“ I said what division ? ” 

“ Please, sir, I don’t know what you mean.” 

“ Do you know P.C. Revitts, VV division P” 

“ No, sir,” I said, with my heart sinking. “It’s Mr. William 
Revitts I know.” 

“Which his name is William,” he muttered. Then, aloud. 

Here, come along.” 

“ No, no, sir,” I cried in alarm. “Don’t send me back.” 

“ Come along, I tell yer.” 

“ What’s up ? ” said a gruff voice ; and a second policeman 
joined us. 

“ Don’t c^uite know yet,” said the first man ; and then he said 
something in a low voice to the other, with the result that, with- 
out another word, I was hurried up and down street after street 
till I felt ready to drop. Suddenly my guide turned into a great 
blank-looking building and spoke to another policeman, and soon, 
after a little shouting, a tall, burly-looking constable in his 


P.G. REVITTS. 


67 


6uttoned-up great-coat came slowly towards us in the white- 
tvashed room. 

“ Here’s a lad been absconding,” said my guide, and he says 
he’ll give you for a reference.” 

“ Ell ! me ? ” said the new-comer, making me start as he stared 
hard in my face. “ Who are you, boy. I don’t know you.” 

“ Antony Grace, please, sir,” I faltered. 

“ And who’s Antony Grace ? ” 

There, I thought it was a do,” said the first constable roughly. 

What d’yer mean by gammoning me in this way ? Come along.” 

“ No, sir, please. Pray give me time,” I cried. Don’t send 
me back. Please, Mr, Revitts, I have run away from Mr. Blake- 
ford, and if 1 am sent back to Rowford he’ll kill me. I know he 
will.” 

’Old ’ard. Smith,” said the big constable. “ Look here, boy. 
What did you say ? W^here did you come from ? ” 

Rowford, sir. Pray don’t send me back.” 

And what’s the name of the chap as you’re afraid on P” 

“ Mr. Blakeford, sir.” 

« I’m blest!” 

W^hat did you say, sir ? ’ 

« I said I’m blest, boy.” 

** Then you do know him P ” said the first constable. 

I don’t quite know as I do, yet,” was tlie reply. 

*^Well, look here, I want to get back. You take charge of 
h m. I found him on a doorstep in Great Ooram Street. There’s 
his bundle. If he don’t give a good account of himself, have it 
entered and lock him up.” 

All right,” said the other, after a few moments’ hesitation. 

“ Then I’m off,” said the first man ; and he left me in charge of 
the big constable, who stood staring down at me so fiercely, as I 
thought, that I looked to right and left for a way of escape. 

“None o’ that, sir,” he said sharply, in the words and way of 
the other, whose heavy footsteps were now echoing down the 
passage. “ Lookye here, if you try to run away, I’ve only got to 
shout, and hundreds of thousands of pleecemen will start up all 
round about to stop yer.” 

As he spoke he pushed me into a Windsor arm-chair, where I 
sat as if in a cage, while he held up one finger to shake in my 
face. 

“ As the Clerkenwell magistrate said t’other day, the law’s a 
great network, and spreads wide. You’re now in the net o’ the 
law, young fellow, and you can’t get out. Just look here, we 
knows a deal in the law and po-lice, and I can find out in two 
tw(>s whether you are telling me the truth or doing the artful.” 

“ Please, sir ” 

“Hold your tongue, sir! You can make your defence when 


68 


THE STORY OE ANTONY GRACE. 


your time comes; and mind this, it’s my dooty to tell you that 
what you says now may be used in evidence again you.” 

Thus silenced, I stood gazing up in his big-whiskered face, that 
seemed to loom over me, in the gaslight, and wondered why 
there snould be so much form and ceremony over taking 
my word. 

Now look here,” he said pulling out a note-book and pencil, 
like the auctioneer’s, only smaller, and seeming as if he were 
going to take an inventory of my small person. “ Now, look 
here,” he repeated, moistening the point of his pencil, “ you told 
Joe Smith you knowed me, and I never set eyes on you afore.” 

“ Please, sir,” I said hastily, “ I told him I know Mr. Revitts, 
who’s in the police.” 

‘^Yes, and you said you had run away from Rowford and a 
Mr. Blake — Blake AVhat’s his name?” 

Blakeford, sir,” I said despondently, for it seemed that this 
was not my Mr. Revitts. 

“ Blakeford. That’s right ; and he ill-used you P ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ He’s a little fair man, ain’t he, with blue eyes P ” And he 
rustled the leaves of his note-book as if about to take down my 
answer. 

“No, sir,” I cried eagerly ; “he’s taU and dark, and has short 
hair, and very white teeth.” 

“ Ho I Tall I is he ? ” said the constable, making believe to 
write, and then holding out his pencil at me. “ He’s n nice, kind, 
amiable man, ain’t he, as wouldn’t say an unkind word to a dorg ? ” 

“ Oh no, sir,” I said, shuddering ; “ that’s not my Mr. Blake- 
ford.” 

“ Ho 1 Now, then, once more. There’s a servant lives there at 
that house, and her name’s Jane — ain’t it ?” 

“ No, sir, Mary.” 

“ And she’s got red hair and freckles, and she — she’s very little 
and ” 

“ No, no,” I cried excitedly, for after my heart had seemed to 
sink terribly low, it now leaped at his words. “ That isn’t Mary, 
and you are saying all this to try me, sir. Y'ou — you are Mr. 
William Revitts, 1 know you are and I caught him eagerly by 
the arm. 

“ Which I don’t deny it, boy,” he said, still looking at me sus- 
piciously, and removing my hand. “ Revitts is my name. P.O. 
Revitts, VV 240 ; and I ain’t ashamed of it. But only to think 
of it. How did you know of me, though?” 

“ I wrote Mary’s letters for her, sir.” 

“ Whew I That’s how it was she had so improved m hei 
writing. And so you’ve been living in the same house along o’ 
her?” 


P.C. REVITTS. 


69 


" Yes, sir,” I said, ** and she was so good and kind.” 

** When she wasn’t in a tantrum, eh ? ” 

** Yes, sir, when she wasn’t in a ” 

Tantrum, that’s it, boy. We should ha’ been spliced afore 
now if it hadn’t been for her tantrums. But only to think o’ your 
being picked up in the street like this. And what am I to do 
now? You’ve absconded, you have; you know you’ve absconded 
in the eyes of the law.” 

“Write to Mary, please, sir, and ask her if it wasn’t enough to 
make me run away.” 

“ Abscond, my lad, abscond,” said the constable. 

“Yes, sir,” I said, with a shiver, “ abscond.” 

“You didn’t — you didn’t,” he said in a half hesitating way, as 
he felt and pinched my bundle, and then ran his hand down by 
my jacket-pocket. “ You didn’t — these are all your own things 
in tliis, are they?” 

“ Oh yes, sir !” I said. 

“ Because some boys when they absconds, makes mistakes, and 
^kes what isn’t theirs.” 

“ Do they, sir ? ” 

“Yes, my lad, and I’m puzzled about you. You see, it’s my 
c. i:ty to treat you like a runaway ’prentice, and I’m uneasy in my 
mind about what to do. You see, you did run away.” 

“ Oh yes, sir, I did run away. I was obliged to. Mr. Blake- 
ford wanted me to tell lies.” 

“ Well, that seems to come easy enough to most people,” he 
said. 

“But I am telling the truth, sir,” I said. “Write down to 
Rowford, and ask Mary if I’m not telling the truth.” 

“ Truth ! Oh, I know that, my boy,” he said kindly. “ Here, 
give’s your hand. Come along.” 

“But you won’t send me back, sir? ” 

“Send you back? Not I, boy. He’s a blackguard, that Blake- 
ford. I know him, and I only wish he’d do something, and I had 
him to take up for it. Mary’s told me all about him, and if ever 
we meets, even if it’s five pounds or a month. I’ll punch his head: 
that’s what I’ll do for him. Do yer hear ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” I said. ' 

“Now, what’s to be done with you?” 

I shook iny head and looked at him helplessly. 

He stood looking at me for a few moments and then went into 
another room, where there was a policeman sitting at a desk, like 
a clerk, with a big book before him. I could see him through the 
other doorway, and they talked for a few minutes ; and then Mr. 
Revitts came back, and stood staring at me. 

“ P’r’aps I’m a fool,” he muttered. “ P’r’aps I ain’t. Anyhow, 
rU do it. Look here, youngster, I’l gmng to trust you, though 


70 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

as youVe absconded I ought to take you before a magistrate oi 
the inspector, but I won’t, as you’re a friend of my Mary.” 

“ Thank you, sir,” I said. 

And if you turn out badly, why, woe betide you.”^ 

Please, sir, I won’t turn out badly if I can help it j but Mr 
Blakeford said I was good for nothing.” 

“ Mr. Blakeford be blowed ! I wouldn’t ask him for a character 
for a dorg; and as for Mary, she don’t want his character, and he 
may keep it. I’U take her without. I wouldn’t speak to any one 
like this, youngster; but you know that gal’s got a temper, 
though she’s that good at heart that — that ” 

“ She’d nurse you so tenderly if you were ill,” I said enthusi- 
astically, that you wouldn’t wish to be better.” 

He held out his hand and gave mine a long and solemn shake. 

“ Thankye, youngster,” he said, “ thankye for that. You and I 
will be good friends, I see. I will trust your word, hang me if I 
don’t. Here, come along.” 

“ Are you — are you going to take me up, sir ?” I faltered, 
with a shiver of apprehension. 

“I’m a-going to give you the door-key where I lodges, my lad. 
I’m on night duty, and shan’t be home till quarter-past six, so you 
may have my bed and welcome. Now, look here,” he said, “don’t 
you go and let anybody fool you. I’m going to show you the end 
of a long street, and you’ll go right to the top, then turn to the 
right along the road till you come to the fourth turning, and on 
the right-hand side, number twenty-seven, is where I lodges. 
Here’s the key. You puts it in the lock, turns it, shets the door 
after you, and then goes gently upstairs to the second-pair back.” 

“ Second-pair back, sir .P” I said dubiously. 

“Well there, then, to the back room atop of the house, and 
there you may sleep till I come. Now then, this way out.” 

It was a change that I could not have believed in, and I accom- 
panied the constable wonderingly as he led me out of the police- 
station and through several dark-looking streets, till he stopped 
short before a long dim vista, where straight before me two lines 
of gaslights stretched right away tUl they seemed to end in a 
bright point. 

“Now, then,” he said, “you can’t make any mistake there.” 

“No, sir.” 

Off you go then to the top, and then you’ll find yourself in a 
big road.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Turn to the right, and then count four streets on the right- 
hand side. Do you understand ? ” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ Go down that street about half-way, till you see a gaslight 
shining on a door with number twenty-seven upon it, I’weuty- 


P.C. REVITTS. 


71 


seyen Caroline Street. Now, do you understand? Straight up 
to the top, and then it’s right, right, right, all the way.” 

I understand, sir.” 

Good luck to you then, be off ; here’s my sergeant.” 

I should have stopped to thank him, but he hurried me away ; 
and half forgetting my weariness, I went along the street, found 
at last the road at the end, followed it as directed, and then in 
the street of little houses found one where the light from the 
lamp shone as my guide had said. 

I paused with the key in my hand, half fearing to use it, but 
summoning up my courage, I found the door opened easily and 
closed quietly, when I stood in a narrow passage with the stairs 
before me, and following them to the top, I hesitated, hardly 
knowing back from front. A deep heavy breathing from one 
room, however, convinced me that that could not be the back, so 
I tried the other door, to find it yield, and there was just li^ht 
enough from the window to enable me to find the bed, on which 
I threw myself half dressed, and slept soundly till morning, when 
I opened my eyes to find Mr. Kevitts taking off his stiff uniform 
coat. 

^^Look here, youngster,” he said, throwing himself upon the 
bed, dessay you’re tired, so don’t you get up. Have another 
nap, and then call me at ten, and we’ll have some breakfast. 
How — how ” he said, yawning. 

What did you say, sir ? ” 

How — Mary look ? ” 

“Very well indeed, sir. She has looked much better lately, 
and ” 

I stopped short, for a long-drawn breath from where Mr. 
Revitts had thrown himself upon the bed told me plainly enougli 
that he was asleep. 

I was too wakeful now to follow his example, and raising 
myself softly upon my elbow, I had a good look at my new friend, 
to see that he did not look so big and burly without his great- 
coat, but all the same he was a stoutly built, fine-looking man, 
with a bluff, honest expression of countenance. 

I stayed there for some minutes, thinking about him, and then 
about Mary, and Mr. Blakeford, and Hetty, and I w^ondered how 
the lawyer had got on before the magistrates without me. Then, 
rising as quietly as I could, I washed and finished dressing 
myself before sitting dowm to wait patiently for my host’s 
awakening. 

The first hour passed very tediously, for there was nothing to 
see from the window but chimney-pots, and though it was early 
I began to feel that I had not breakfasted, and three hours or so 
was a long time to wait. The room w^as clean, but shabbily 
furnished, and as T glanced round offered little in the wav of 


72 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


recreation, till my eyes lit on a set of hanging shelves with a fe .v 
books thereon, and going on tiptoe across th^e room, I began to 
read their backs, considering which 1 should choose. 

There was the Farmer of Inglewood Forest,” close by the 

Old English Baron,” with the Children of the Abbey,” and 

Robinson Crusoe.” Side by side with them was a gilt-edged 
Prayer-book, upon opening which I found that it vras the pro- 
perty of “ Mr. William Revitts, a present from his effectmat 
friend Mary Bloxam.” On the opposite leaf was the following 
verse : — 

“ When this yu see, remember me, 

And bare me in yure mind ; 

And doa’t forget old Ingerland, 

And the lass yu lef behind.” 

The Bible on the shelf was from the same source. Besides 
these were several books in shabby covers — Bogat sky’s “ Golden 
Treasury,” the “ Pilgrim’s Progress,” and the Young Man’s Best 
Companion.” 

I stood looking at them for a few minutes, and then reached 
down poor old Robinson Crusoe,” bore it to the window, and 
for the fourth time in my life began its perusal. 

In a very short time my past troubles, my precarious future, 
and my present hunger were all forgotten, and I was far away 
from the attic in North London, watching the proceedings of 
Robinson in that wonderful island, having skipped over a good 
many of the early adventures f’or the sake of getting as soon as 
possible into that far-away home of mystery and romance. 

The strengthening of his house, the coming of the savages, the 
intensely interesting occurrences of the story, so enchained me, 
that I read on and on till I was suddenly startled by the voice of 
Mr. Revitts exclaiming : 

Hallo, you ! I say, what’s o’clock ? ” 


CHAPTER XIV. 

BREAKFAST WITH THE LAW, AND WHAT FOLLOITED. 

I LET the book fall in a shamefaced way as my host took a great, 
ugly old silver watch from beneath his pillow, looked at it, shook 
it, looked at it again, and then exclaimed : 

“It’s either ’levin o’clock or else she’s been up to her larks. 
Plush 1 ” . 

He held up his hand, for just then a clock began to strike, and 
we both counted eleven. 


BREAKFAST WITH THE LAW, AND WHAT FOLLOWED. 73 


** Then she was right for once in a way. Why didn’t you call 
me at ten ? ” 

forgot, sir. I was reading/’ I faltered; for I felt I had 
been guilty of a great breach of trust. 

And you haven’t had no breakfast,” he said, dressing himself 
quickly, and then plunging his face into the basin of water, to 
splash and blow loudly, before having a most vigorous rub with 
the towel. “ Why, you must be as hungry as a hunter,” he con- 
tinued, as he halted in what was apparently his morning costume 
of flannel shirt and trousers. We’ll very soon have it ready, 
though. Shove the cloth on, youngster; the cups and saucers 
are in that cupboard. That’s right, look alive.” 

I hastened to do what he wished, and in a few minutes had 
spread the table after the fashion observed by Mary at Mr. 
Blakeford’s, while Mr. Revitts took a couple of rashers of bacon 
out of a piece of newspaper on the top of the bookshelf, and some 
bread and a preserve jar containing butter out of a box under the 
table. Next he poured some coffee out of a canister into the pot, 
and having inserted his feet into slippers, he prepared to go out 
of the room. 

Bedroom, with use of the kitchen, for a single gentleman,” he 
said, winking one eye. That’s me. Back in five minutes, 
youngster.” 

It must have been ten minutes before he returned, with the 
coffee-pot in one hand and the two rashers of hot sputtering bacon 
in the other, when in the most friendly spirit he drew a chair to 
the table, and saying, ‘‘Help yourself, youngster,” placed one 
rasher upon my plate and took the other upon his own. 

“ I say, only to think of my mate coming upon you fast asleep 
in London,” he said, tearing me off a piece of bread. “ Why, if 
he’d been looking for you, he couldn’t ha’ done it. Don’t be 
afraid o’ the sugar. There ain’t no milk.” 

I was very hungry, and I gladly began my breakfast, since it 
was offered in so sociable a spirit. 

“ Let’s see. How did you say Mary looked ? ” 

“ Very well indeed, sir,” I replied. 

“Send me — come, tuck in, my lad, you’re welcome — send me 
any message ? ” 

“She did not know I was coming, sir.” 

“No, of course not. So you’ve come to London to seek your 
fortune, eh ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Where are you going to look for it first ? ” he said, grinning. 

“I don’t know, sir,” I said, rather despondently. 

“ More don’t I. Pour me out another cup o’ coffee, my lad, 
while I cut some more bread and scrape. Unly to think o’ my 
mate meeting you I And so Mary looks well, does she ? ” 


74 


THE STORY OF ANTONY' GRACE, 


“ Yes, sir.” 

“ And ain’t very comfortable, eb ? ” 

Oh no, sir I It’s a very uncomfortable place.” 

"Ah, 1 shall have to find her a place after all! She might 
just as well have said yes last time, instead of going into a 
tantrum. I say, come ; you ain’t hair eating. I shall write and 
tell her I’ve seen you.” 

If I was half eating before, I was eating nothing now, for his 
words suggested discovery, and my being given up to Mr. Blake- 
ford ; when, seeing my dismay, my host laughed at me. 

There, get on with your toke, youngster. If I tell Mary 
where you are, you don’t suppose she’ll go and tell old Blake- 
ford ?” 

^*Oh no, sir I she wouldn’t do that,” I said, taking heart again, 
and resuming my brealrfast. 

“ And I say, youngster, suppose you don’t say sir to me any 
more. I’m only a policeman, you know. I say, you were a bit 
scared last night, weren’t you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir — yes, I mean, I was very much afraid.” 

Ah, that’s the majesty of the law, that is ! Do you know, I’ve 
only got to go into a crowd, and just give my head a nod, and 
they disperse directly. The police have wonderful power in 
London.’- 

Have they, sir ? ” 

** Wonderful, ray lad. We can do anything we like, so long as 
it’s men. Hundreds of ’em ’ll give way before a half-dozen of us. 
It’s only when we’ve got to deal with the women that we get 
beat ; and that ain’t no shame, is it? ” 

** No, sir,” I said, though I had not the faintest notion why. 

‘^You’re quite right,” he said; it ain’t no shame. What! 
Have you done ? ” 

“ Y'es, sir — yes, I mean.” 

** Won’t you have that other cup of coffee? ” 

^‘No, thank you.” 

“ Then I will,” he said, suiting the action to the word. “Well, 
now then, youngster, what are yon going to do, eh ? ” 

“ I’m going to try and find Mr. Bowie’s brother, sir, at a great 
printing-office,” I said, searching my pockets, and at last finding 
tlie address given me. “ Perhaps he’ll help me to find a situation.” 

“ Ah, p’r’aps so. They do have boys in printing-offices. Now, 
if you were a bit bigger you might have joined the police, and got 
to be a sergeant some day. It’s a bad job, but it can’t be helped. 
You must grow.” 

“ I am growing fast, sir,” I replied. 

“ Ah, I s’pose so. Well, now lookye here. You go and see 
Mr. Bowie, and hear what he says, and then come back to me.” 

“ Come back here P ” I said, hesitating. 


“BOYS WANTED. 


75 


** Unless youVe got somewhere better to go, my lad. There, 
don't you mind coming. You’re an old friend o' my Mary, and so 
you're an old friend o’ mine. So, for a week, or a fortnight, or a 
month, if you like to bunk down along o’ me till you can get 
settled, why, you’re welcome ; and if a man can say a better word 
than that, why, tell him how.” 

^ “ I — I should be very, very grateful if you would give me a 
night or two’s lodging, sir,” 1 said, and — and I’ve got six 
shillings yet.” 

“ Then don't you spend more than you can help, youngster. 
Do you know what’s the cheapest dinner you can get ? ” 

“ No, sir — no, I mean.” 

** Penny loaf and a pen’orth o’ cheese. You come back here and 
have tea along o’ me. I don’t go on duty till night. There, no 
shuffling,” he said, grinning. “ If you don’t come back I’ll write 
and tell old Blakeford.” 

I could see that he did not mean it, and soon after I left my 
bundle there, and started off to try if I could find Mr. Howie’s 
brother at the great printing-office in Short Street, Fetter Lane. 


CHAPTER XV. 

‘^BOYS WANTJSD.” 

I WENT over the address in my own mind to make sure, and also 
repeated the directions given me by Mr. Revitts, so as to make no 
mistake in going into the City. Then I thought over again Mr. 
Rowle’s remarks about his brother, his name, Jabez, his age, and 
his being exactly like himself. That would, I thought, make it 
easy for me to recognise him ; and in this spirit I walked on 
through the busy streets, feeling a good deal confused at being 
pushed and hustled about so much, while twice I was nearly run 
over in crossing the roads. 

At last, after asking, by Mr. Revitts’ advice, my way of different 
policemen when I was at fault, I found m^^self soon after two in 
Short Street, Fetter Lane, facing a pile of buildings from the base 
of which came the hiss and pant of steam, with the whirr, clang, 
and roar of machinery; while on the doorpost was a bright zinc 
plate with the legend Ruddle and Lister, General Printers ; ” 
and above that, written on a card in a large legible hand, and 
tacked against the wood-work, the words “ Boys Wanted.” 

This announcement seemed to take away my breath, and I 
hesitated for a few minutes before I dared approach the place : 
but I went up at last, and then, seeing a severe-looking man in a 
glass box reading a newspaper, I shrank back and walked on a 


76 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


little way, forgetting all about Mr. Jabez Howie in my anxiety to 
try and obtain a situation by whose means I could earn my living. 

At last, in a fit of desperation, I went up to the glass case, and 
the man reading the newspaper let it fall upon his knees and 
opened a little window. 

“ Now then, what is it ? ” he said in a gruff voice. 

^^If you please, sir, there’s a notice about boys wanted ” 

Down that passage, upstairs, first floor,” said the man gruffly 
and banged down the window. 

I was a little taken aback, but I pushed a swing door, and went 
with a beating heart along the passage, on one side of which were 
rooms fitted up something like Mr. 131akeford’s office, and on the 
other side a great open floor stacked with reams of paper, and with 
laths all over the ceiling, upon which boys with curious pieces of 
wood, something like long wooden crutches, were hanging up 
sheets of paper to dry, wMle at broad tables by the windows I 
could see women busily folding more sheets of paper, as if making 
books. 

It was but a casual glance I had as I passed on, and then went 
by a room with the door half open and the floor carpeted inside. 
There was a pleasant, musical voice speaking, and then there was 
a burst of laughter, all of which seemed out of keeping iu that 
dingy place, full of the throb of machinery, and the odour of oil 
and steam. 

At the end of the passage was the staircase, and going up, I 
was nearly knocked over by a tall, fat-headed boy, who blundered 
roughly against me, and then turned round to cry indignantly — 

‘‘ Now, stoopid, where are yer a-coming to ? ” 

Can you tell me, please, where I am to ask about boys being 
wanted ? ” T said mildly. 

“ Oh, find out I There ain’t no boys wanted here.” 

“ Not wanted here ! ” 1 faltered, with my hopes terribly dashed, 
for I had been building castles high in the air. 

No ; be off I ” he said roughly, when a new character appeared 
on the scene in the shape of a business-looking man in a white 
apron, carrying down an iron frame, and having one hand at 
liberty, he made use of it to give the big lad a cuff on the ear. 

** You make haste and fetch up those galleys, Jem Smith ; ” and 
tl o boy went on down three stairs at a time. “ What do you 
want, my man P ” he continued, turning to me. 

“ I saw there were boys wanted, sir, and 1 was going upstairs.” 

“ When that young scoundrel told you a lie. There, go on, and 
in at that swing door ; the overseer’s office is at the end .” 

T thanked him, and went on, pausing before a door blackened 
by dirty hands, and listened for a moment before going in. 

The hum of machinery sounded distant here, and all within 
seemed very still, save a faint clicking noise, till suddenly I heard 


“ BOYS WANTED. 


77 


A loud clap-clapping; as if a flat piece of wood were being banged 
down and then struck with a mallet ; and directly after came a 
hammering, as if some one was driving a wooden peg. 

There were footsteps below, and I dared not hesitate longer; 
so, pushing the door, it yielded, and I found myself in a great 
room, where some forty men in aprons and shirt-sleeves were busy 
at what at the first glance seemed to be desks full of little com- 
partments, from which they were picking something as they stood. 
JBut I was too much confused to notice more than that they took 
not the slightest notice of me, as I stopped short, wondering 
where the overseer’s room would be. 

At one corner I could see an old man at a desk, with a boy 
standing beside him, both of them shut up in a glass-case, as if 
they were curiosities; in another comer there was a second glass- 
case, in which a fierce-looking man with a shiny bald head and 
g-littering spectacles was gesticulating angrily to one of the men 
m white aprons, and pointing to a long, narrow slip of paper. 

I waited for a moment, and then turned to the man nearest to 
me. 

“ Can you tell me, please, which is the overseer’s office ? ” I said, 
cap in hand. 

“Folio forty-seven — who’s got folio forty-seven?” he said 
aloud. 

^‘Here! ” cried a voice close by. 

“Make even. — Get out; don’t bother me.” 

I shrank away, confused and perplexed, and a dark, curly-haired 
man on the other side turned upon me a pair of deeply set stern 
eyes, as he rattled some little square pieces of lead into something 
he held in his hand. 

“ What is it, boy ? ” he said in a deep, low voice. 

“ Can you direct me to the overseer’s office, sir ? ” 

“ That’s it, boy, where that gentleman in spectacles is talking.” 

“ Wigging old Morgan,” said another man, laughing. 

“ Ah°! ” said the first speaker, “ that’s the place, boy ; ” and he 
turned his eyes upon a slip of paper in front of his desk. 

I said, “ Thank you ! ” and went on along the passage between 
two rows of the frame desks to where the fierce-looking bald man 
was still gesticulating, and as I drew near I could hear what he 
said. 

“ I’ve spoken till I’m tired of speaking ; your slips are as foul as 
a ditch. Confound you, sir, you’re a perfect disgrace to the whole 
chapel. Do you think your employers keep readers to do nothing 
else but correct your confounded mistakes ? Read your stick, sir 
• — read your stick ! ” 

“ Very sorry,” grumbled the man, “ but it was two o’clock this 
morning, and I was tired as a dog.” 

“ Don’t talk to me, sir ; I don’t care if it was two o’clock, or 


78 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY OEACE. 


twelve o’clock, or twenty-four o’clock. I say that slip’s a dis^'-race 
to you ; and for two pins, sir — for two pins I’d have it framed and 
stuck up for the men to see. Be off and correct it. — Now, then, 
what do you want ? ” 

This was to me, and I was terribly awe-stricken at the fierce 
aspect of the speaker, whose forehead was now of a lively pink. 

If you please, sir, I saw that you wanted boys, and ” 

“ No ; I don’t want boys,” he raved. I’m sick of the young 
monkeys ; but I’m obliged to have them.” 

“ I am sorry, sir ” I faltered. 

“ Oh yes ; of course. Here, stop I where are you going ? ” 

Please, sir, you said you didn’t want any boys.” 

You’re very sharp, ain’t you ? Now hold your tongue, and 
then answer what I ask and no more. What are you — a machine 
boy or reader ? ” 

** If you please, sir, I — I don’t Imow — I thought — I want ” 

'^Confound you; hold your tongue I ” he roared. Where did 
you work last ? ” 

At — at Mr. Blakeford’s,” I faltered, feeling bound to speak 
the truth. 

“ Blakeford’s 1 Blakeford’s I — I know no Blakeford’s. At 
machine ? ” 

“ No, sir I I wrote all day.” 

“ Wrote ? What, wasn’t it a printing-office P ” 

“No, sir.” 

“ How dare you come wasting my time like this, you insolent 
young scoundrel! Be off! Get out with you! I never knew 
such insolence in my life.” 

I shrank away, trembling, and began to retreat down the 
avenue, this time with the men’s faces towards me, ready to gaze 
in my red and guilty countenance, for I felt as if I had been guilty 
of some insult to the majesty of the printing-office. To my great 
relief, though, the men were too busy to notice me ; but I heard 
one say to another, “ Old Brimstone’s hot tliis morning.” Then 
I passed on, and saw the dark man looking at me silently from 
beneat h his overhanging brows ; and the next moment, heartsick 
a7id choking with the effects of this rebuff, the swing-door was 
thrown open by the fat-headed boy coming in, and as I passed out, 
unaccustomed to its spring, the boy contrived that it would strike 
me full in the back, just as if the overseer had given me a rude 
push to drive me away. 

I descended the stairs with the spirit for the moment crushed 
out of me ; and with my eyes dim with disappointment, I was 
passing along the passage, when, as I came to the open door of the 
carpeted room, a man’s voice exclaimed — 

“ No, no. Miss Carr, you really shall not We’ll send it on by 
one of the boys.” 


BOYS WANTED. 


79 


** Oh, nonsense, Mr. Lister ; I can carry it.” 

** Yes, yes; of course you can, but 1 shall not let you. Here, 
boy, come here.” 

I entered the room nervously, to find myse** in presence of a 
handsome, well-dressed man, another who was stout and elderly, 
and two young ladies, while upon the table lay a parcel of books, 
probably the subject of the remark. 

Hallo ! what boy are you?” said the younger man. *‘Oh! 
one of the new ones, I suppose.” 

‘^No, sir,” I said, with voice trembling and my face working, 
for 1 was unnerved by the treatment I had just received and the 
dashing of my hopes ; “I came to be engaged, but — but the gen- 
tleman upstairs turned me away.” 

Why ? ” said the elder man sharply. 

Because I had not been in the printing-office, sir.” 

‘‘Oh, of course!” he said, nodding. “Of course. We want 
lads accustomed to the trade, my man.” 

“ You should teach him the trade, Mr. Ruddle,” said one of the 
young ladies quickly, and I darted a look of gratitude at her. 

“ Too busy. Miss Carr,” he said, smiling at her. “ We don’t 
keep a printer’s school.” 

“ I’ll teach him,” whispered the young man eagerly, though I 
heard him ; “I’ll teach him anything, if you’ll promise not to be 
80 cruel.” 

“ What a bargain ! ” she replied, laughing ; and she turned 
away. 

“ I don’t think we need keep you, my lad,” said the young man 
bitterly. 

“ Indeed ! ” said the other young lady ; “ why, I thought he was 
to carry our parcel of books ? ” 

“ But he is a strange boy, my dear young ladies,” said the elder 
man ; “ I’ll ring for one from the office.” 

“ No ; don’t, pray ! ” said the lady addressed as Miss Carr quickly. 
“ I don’t think we will carry the parcel. You will carry it for 
us, will you not ? ” 

“ Oh, yes, indeed I will ! ” I cried eagerly ; and I stepped for- 
ward, for there was something very winning in the speaker’s voice. 

“Stop a moment, my man,” said the elder gentleman rather 
sternly, while the younger stood biting his lips ; “ where do your 
father and mother live r ” 

Those words made something rise in my throat, and I looked 
wildly at him, but could not speak. 

He did not see my face, for he had taken up a pen and drawn a 
memorandum slip towards him. 

“Well; why don’t you speak?” he said sharply, and as ho 
raised his eyes I tried, but could not get out a word, only pointed 
mutely to the shabby band of crape upon my cap. 


80 THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


There was a deep sigh close by me, and / saw that the yoang 
lady addressed as Miss Carr was deadly pale, and for the first time 
I noticed that she was in deep mourning. 

• “My dear Miss Carr ! ” whispered the young man earnestly. 

“ Don’t speak to me for a minute,” she said in the feame tone ; 
and then I saw her face working aiid lip quivering as she gazed 
wistfully at me. 

“Poor lad!” said the elder man abruptly. Then, “Your 
friends, my boy, your relatives ” 

“ I have none, sir,” I said huskily, “ only an uncle, and I don’t 
know for certain where he lives.” 

“ But you don’t mean that you are alone in the world ? ” said the 
young man quickly, and he glanced at the lady as he spoke. 

“ Yes, sir,” I said quietly, for I had now recovered myself, “I 
am quite alone, and I want to get a situation to earn my living.” 

The elder gentleman turned upon me and seemed to look me 
through and through. 

“Now, look here, young fellow,” he said,“ you are either a very 
unfortunate boy or a designing young impostor.” 

“ Mr. Ruddle I ” exclaimed Miss Carr indignantly ; and 1 saw 
the young man’s eyes glitter as he gazed at her sweet, sad face, 
twenty times more attractive now than when she was speaking 
lightly a minute before. 

“ I don’t want to be harsh, my dear • but here we are obliged to 
be firm and business-like. Now, boy, answer me ; have you been 
to a good school ? ” 

“ No, sir,” I said, speaking sharply now, for his use of the word 
“ impostor ” stung me ; “ I was educated at home.” 

“ Humph ! where do you come from ? ” 

“ Rowford, sir.” 

“ Town on a tall hill ? ” 

“ No, sir,” I said in surprise ; “ Rowford is quite in a hole ; but 
we lived four miles from Rowford, sir, on the Cawleigh road.” 

“ Then you know Ley don Wood.” 

“ Oh yes, sir I that’s where papa used to take me to collect 
specimens.” 

“Humph! Don’t say joapa, my boy. Boys who go into the 
world to get their living don’t speak of their papas. J ohn Lister ! ” 

“Wait a minute, Ruddle,” said the younger man, whose back 
was towards us ; and I saw that he was leaning over Miss Carr and 
holding her hand. “If you wish it,” he whispered softly, “it 
shall be done.” 

“ I do wish it,” she said with an earnest look in her large eyes 
as she gazed kindly at me; and the young man turned round, 
flushed and excited. 

I was shrinking away towards the door, pained and troubled, for 


“ BOYS WANTED. 


81 


I felt that I had no business there, when Mr. Lister motioned me 
to stop, and said something to the elder gentleman. 

He in turn screwed up his face, and gave the younger a comical 
look. 

‘‘Your father would not have done so, John Lister,” he said. 
" What am I to say, Miss Carr ? ” 

For answer the young lady rose and went and laid her hands in 
one of his. 

“ If you please, Mr. Ruddle,” she said in a low musical voice, 
“ it will be a kindly act.” 

“ God bless you, my dear,” he said tenderly. “ I believe if I 
were with you long you’d make me as much your slave as you 
have John Lister.” 

“ Then you will ? ” 

“ Yes, my dear, yes, if it is really as he says.” 

She darted an intelligent look at me, and then hastily pulled 
down her crape veil as Mr. Lister followed her to her chair. 

“ Come here, my lad,” said Mr. Ruddle, in quiet business-like 
tones. “We want boys here, but boys used to the printing trade, 
for it does not answer our purpose to teach them ; we have 
no time. But as you seem a sharp, respectable boy, and pretty 
well educated, you might, perhaps, be willing to try.” 

“ Oh, if you’ll try me. I’ll strive so hard to learn, sir I ” I cried 
excitedly. 

“ I hope you will, my boy,” he said drily, “ but don^t profess too 
much ; and mind this, you are not coming here as a young gentle- 
man, but as a reading-boy — to work.” 

“ Yes, sir. I want to work,” I said earnestly. 

“ That’s well. Now, look here. I want to know a little more 
about you. If, as you say, you came from near Rowford, you can 
tell me the names of some of the principal people there ? ” 

“Yes, sir; there’s Doctor Heston, and the Reverend James 
Wyatt, and Mr. Elton.” 

“ Exactly,” he said gruffly ; and he opened a large book and 
turned over a number oif pages. “ Humph ! here it is,” he said to 
himself, and he seemed to check off the names. “ Now, look here, 
my man. What is the name of the principal solicitor at Rowford ? ” 

“ Mr. Blakeford, sir,” I said with a shiver, lest he should want 
to write to him about me. 

“ Oh, you know him ? ” he said sharply. 

“Yes, sir. He managed papa’s — my father’s — affairs,” I said, 
correcting myself. 

“ Then I’m sorry for your poor father’s affairs,” he said, tighten- 
ing his lips. “That will do, my lad. You can come to work 
here. Be honest and industrious, and you’ll get on. Never mind 
about having been a gentleman, but leani to be a true man. Go 
and wait outside.” 


82 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


I tried to speak. I wanted to catch his hands in mine. I 
wanted to fling my arms round Miss Carr, and kiss and bless her 
for her goodness. I was so weak and sentimental a boy then. 
But I had to fight it all down, and satisfy myself by casting 
a grateful glance at her as I went out to wait. 

I was no listener, but I heard every word that passed as the 
ladies rose to go. 

Are you' satisfied, my dear ? ” said Mr. Ruddle. " 

“ God bless you I ” she said ; and I saw her raise her veil and 
kiss him. 

“ God bless you, my dear ! ” he said softly. So this little 
affair has regularly settled it all, eh ? And you are to be John’s 
wife. Well, well, well, my dear, I’m glad of it, very glad of it. 
John, my boy, I would my old partner were alive to see your 
choice ; and as for you, my cliHd, you’ve won a good man, and I 
hope your sister will be as fortunate.” 

I hope I shall, Mr. Ruddle ,” said the other lady softly. 

“ If I were not sixty, and you nineteen, my dear, I’d propose for 
you myself,” he went on laughingly. “ But come, come, I can’t 
have you giddy girls coming to our works to settle your affairs. 
There, be off with you, and you dine with us on Tuesday next. 
The old lady says you are to come early. I’m afraid John Lister 
here won’t be al3le to leave the office till twelve o’clock ; but we 
can do without him, eh ? ” 

Don’t you mind what he says, Miriam,” said Mr. Lister. 
** But stop, here’s the parcel. I’ll send it on.” 

No, no. Please let that youth carry it for us,” said Miss Carr. 

“ Anything you wish,” he whispered earnestly ; and the next 
moment he was at the door. 

Y^ou’ll carry this parcel for these ladies,” he said; **and 
to-morrow morning be here at ten o’clock, and we’ll find you some- 
thing to do.” 

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” I said eagerly ; and taking the 
parcel, I followed the ladies into Holborn, and then along Oxford 
Street to a substantial row of houses near Cavendish Square, 
where the one 1 looked upon as my friend paused at a large door 
and held out her hand to me. 

“I shall hope to hear from Mr. Lister that you have got on well 
at the office,” she said in her sweet musical voice. “Recollect 
that you are my protef/e, and I hope you will do me credit. I 
shall not forget to ask about you. You will try, will you not ? ” 

“ Oh yes,” I said hoarsely, “so hard — so very hard ! ” 

“ J believe you will,” she said, taking the parcel from my hand; 
“ and now good-bye.” 

The next moment I was standing alone upon the pavement, feel- 
ing as if a cloudiness had come over the day, while, as 1 looked 
down into my hand, it was to see there a bright ttew sovereign. 


PLANS POE THE FUTUKE. 
CHAPTEE XVT. 


83 


PLAN? FOR THE FUTURE. 

I WENT straight back to Mr. Revitts, and only when nearly there 
did I remember that I had not thought to ask about Mr. Rowle. 
But I felt it did not matter now, for I had obtained a situation, 
and he could not be annoyed to find that I was coming to the 
same establishment. 

Mr. Reyitts was enjoying himself when I reached his room ; 
that is to say, he was sitting in his dingy old red-flannel shirt and 
his blue uniform trousers, with his sleeves rolled well up above the 
elbow, reading the police news in a daily paper and smoking a 
short black pipe, with the wreaths of smoke floating out of the 
open window. 

“ Here you are then, my lad,” he said, just in time. You and 
I will go out and have a bit o’ something at the cookshop. Did 
you find your friend ? ” 

“ No, sir — no Mr. Revitts,” I said, correcting myself, “ I forgot 
to ask for him.” 

He let his paper fall in his lap and stared hard at me. 

“ Now, look here, my lad,” he said, expelling a large cloud of 
smoke, I don’t want you to commit yourself, and it’s my dooty 

to tell you that whatever you say will be No, no, nonsense. 

Come, speak out. What are you laughing at ? What have you 
• been doing ? ” 

Hereupon I told him my adventure, my eyes sparkling with 
delight. 

And a whole sovereign into the bargain ! ” he cried as I 
finished. “ Let’s look at it.” 

I handed him the bright new golden coin, and he span it up in 
the air, caught it dexterously, and bit it. Then he tried it three 
or four times on the table, as a shopman would a piece of money 
on a counter, and ended by making believe to thrust it into his 
pocket. 

It’s a good one,” he said, and I think I shall stick to it for 
your board and lodging last night and this morning. What do 
you say ? ” 

think you ought to be paid, sir,” I said eagerly, for you 
were very good to me.” 

He stared hard at me for a few moments, and then thrust the 
sovereign back in my hand. 

^‘I’ve seen a good many boys in my time,” he said, “ but I’m 
blessed if ever I run again one like you. Why, you’ve got plenty 
of pluck, or else you wouldn’t have run away ; but of all the 
simple — well, I won’t say simple, but green — of the green chaps I 
ever did come across you are about the greenest.” 


84 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


I flushed up far from that tint at his words, for there was the 
oM complaint again about my greenness. 

Please, Mr. Revitts, I’m very sorry I’m so green,” I said, look- 
ing at him wistfully ; “ perhaps it’s because I’ve always lived ir. 
the country.” 

He stared harder at me. 

^^Oome here,” he said sharply, and going to the window, he 
placed me between his knees, laid a great hand upon each of my 
shoulders grasping them firmly, and gazed straight into my eyes. 
“ Look here, youngster,” he said angrily, “ is it R or F ? Are you 
trying to humbug me ? Because, if so, it won’t do : Fm too old.” 

Humbug you, sir ? ” I said wonderingly. I don’t know what 
you mean.” 

That you don’t,” he said, dropping his fierce way and sinking 
back smiling. “ ’S truth, what a boy you are ! ” 

T gazed at him in a troubled way, for I felt hurt, 

“I’m very sorry, Mr. Revitts,” I said, “ and I hope you don’t 
think I would do anything to deceive you,” for that “ R or F ” 
puzzled me. 

“ Deceive me ? Not you, my boy. Why, you couldn’t deceive a 
sparrer or a hoyster. Why, you’re as transparent as a pane of 
glass. 1 can see right through you and out on the other side.” 

“ I’m afraid I am very stupid, sir,” I said sadly. “ I’ll try to 
learn to be more clever. I don’t know much, only about books, 
and natural history, and botany, but I’ll try very hard not — not 
to be so — so — green.” 

“ Why, bless your young heart, where have you been all your 

life ? You’re either as cunning as No, you ain’t, you really 

are as innocent as a lamb.” 

“ I’ve always been at home with papa and mamma, sir.” 

“Sir, be hanged ! My name’s AVilliam Revitts ; and if you and 
me’s going to be good friends, my boy, you’ll drop that sir-ing and 
mistering, and call me plain Bill.” 

“ Should you like it, sir, if I did ? ” I asked anxiously. 

“No, ^>,1 shouldn’t. Yes, I should. Now then* is it to be 
friends or enemies ? ” 

“ Oh, friends, please,” I said, holding out my hand. 

“ Then there’s mine, young Antony,” he cried seizing it in his 
ereat fingers. “ And mind, I’m Bill, or old Bill, whichever you 
like.” 

“ I’m sure Bill, I should be glad to be the best of friends,” 

I said, “ for I have none.” 

“ Oh, come now, you said that Polly was very good to you ” 

“What, Mary? Oh yes I” 

“ Well, theii, that’s one. But, 1 say, you know, you mustn’t b« 
so precious innocent.” - 

“ Mustn’t I, sir P ” 


PLANS POE THE PUTUEE. 85 

"What I ” he cried, bringing his hand down crash on the table. 

" Mustn't I, Bill ? ” 

"That’s better. No : that you mustn’t. I seem to look upon 
you as quite an old friend iince you lived so long with my Polly. 
But, 1 say, your education has been horribly neglected. You’re 
quite a baby to the boys up here at your age.” 

“ But papa was so anxious that I should learn everything,” I 
said, as I thought of Mr. Huddle’s words, "and we had lessons 
every day.” 

" Hah ! Y’es ; but you can’t learn everything out o’ books,” he 
continued, looking at me curiously. " You never went away to 
school, then ? ” 

"No. I was going in a month or two.” 

" Hah I and it was put off. Well, we can’t help it now, only 
you mustn’t be so jolly easy-going. Everybody here will glory in 
taking you in.” 

" Do you mean cheating me ? ” 

" That’s just what I do mean. Why, some chaps would have 
nailed that suv like a shot, and you’d never have seen it again. 
You see, I’m in the police, and we couldn’t stoop to such a thing, 
but I know lots o’ men as would say as a suv was no. use to a boy 
like you, and think as they ought to take care of it for you.” 

" Well, wouldn’t that be right, Mr. Revitts ? ” I said. 

" No, it wouldn’t, young greenhorn,” he cried sharply, " because 
they’d take care of it their way.” 

" Greenhorn ? ” I said eagerly. " Oh, that’s what you mean by 
my being green I You mean ignorant and unripe in the world’s 
ways.” 

“ That’s just what I do mean,” he cried, slapping me on the 
shoulder. "Brayvo! that’s the result of my first lesson,” he 
continued admiringly. " Why, I’m blessed if I don’t think that 
if I had you here six months, and took pains, I could make a man 
of you.” 

" Oh, I wish you would,” I cried excitedly. "I do so want to 
be a true, good man — one such as papa used to speak of — one who 
could carve his way to a noble and honourable career, and grow to 
be loved and venerated and held in high esteem by the world at 
large. Oh, I would try so hard — I’d work night and day, and feel 
at last that I had not tried in vain.” 

"He-ar I he-ar! Brayvo, brayvo, youngster! Well done our 
side 1 That’s your style 1 ” he cried, clapping his hands and 
stamping his feet as I stopped short, flushed and excited with the 
ideas that had come thronging to my brain, and then gazed at him 
in a shamefaced and bashful manner. "That’s your sort, my boy, 
I like that. I say, did your father teach you that sorter thing.” 

" Yes, Mr. Rev Yes, Bill.” 

" I say, your par, as you called him, wasn’t a fool,” 


86 


THE STORY OE ANTONY GRACE. 


“ My papa,” I said proudly, ** I mean my dear father, was the 
best and kindest of men.” 

That I’ll lay sixpence he was. Why, I was feeling' quite out 
of heart about you, and thinking you such a hinnocent young 
goose that I shouldn’t know how to help you. Why,lookye here, 
I've been kicking about in the world ever since I was ten, and 
been in the police six years, and I couldn’t make a speech like that.” 

" Couldn’t you, sir — Mr. — I mean Bill ? ” 

No, that I couldn’t. Why, I tell you what. Y^ou and I’ll 
stick together and I don’t know what we mightn’t make of you at 
last — p’raps Lord Mayor o’ London. Or, look here, after a few 
years we might get you in the police.” 

“ In the police ? ” I faltered. 

** To be sure, and you being such a scholard and writing such a 
hand — I know it, you know. Lookye here,” he continued, pulling 
out a pocket-book, from one of the wallets in which he drew a 
note I had written for Mary, I say, you writing such a hand, 
and being well up in your spelling, you’d rise like a air balloon, 
and get to be sergeant, and inspector, and perhaps superintendent, 
and wear a sword ! You mark my words, youngster j you’ve got a 
future before- you.” 

“ Do you think so p ” 

** I just do. I like you, young Antony, hang me if I don’t ; and 
i you stick to me I’ll teach you all I know,” 

“ Will you ? ” I said eagerly. 

Well, all I can. Just hand me that paper o’ tobacco. 
Thaukye. I’ll have just one more pipe, and then we’ll go to 
dinner.” 

He filled and lit his pipe, and went on talking. 

“ First and foremost, don’t you get trying to smoke.” 

“ No, I will not,” I said. 

That’s right. It’s all very well for men, a little of it ; but I 
don’t like to see boys at it, as 'too many tries just now. I often 
sees ’em on my beat, and I never feel so jolly happy as when I 
come across one looking white after it about the gills, and so sick 
he can’t hold his head straight up. But, as I was a-sayiug, you 
stick to me and I’ll teach you all I can, and I know two or three 
things,” he continued, closing one eye and opening it again. 

You must, sir.” 

“ Yes; there’s some clever chaps I have to deal with sometimes 
—roughs and thieves and the like ; but they have to get up verj 
early in the morning to take me in.” 

Do they, sir — Bill P ” I said woiideringly. 

There, now you’re getting innocent again,” he said sharply. 
“ You don’t mean to tell me as you don’t understand that ? ” 

“ Oh yes, I do ; you mean that they wculd have to get up very 
early to master you — say at daybreak.” 


PLANS FOR THE FUTURE. 


87 


"Wliat a young innocent you are/’ he cried, laughhig; and 
tlien seeing my pained look, he slapped me on the shoulder again. 
“ It’s all right, my boy. You can’t help it; and you’ll soon learn 
all these things. I know a lot, but so do you — a sight o’ things 
I don’t. Why, I’ll be bound to say you could write a long letter 
without making a single mistake in the spelling.” 

Yes, I think I could,” I said innocently. ^^Both papa and 
mamma took great pains with me over that.” 

^ Look at that, now ! ” he said. Why, I couldn’t write two 
lines in my pocket-book without putting down something as the 
sergeant would chafp.” 

Chaff ? ” I said, cut-up stuff for horses ? ” 

"Yes; that’s it,” he said, grinning. "Stuff as they cut up. 
There, you’ll soon know what chaff is, my lad. But, you know, 
all the same, and speaking quite fair, I do maintain as spelling 
ain’t square.” 

"Not square?” 

" I mean fair and square and above-board. Them as invented 
spelling couldn’t have been very clever, or they’d have made every- 
thing spelt as it sounded. Why, it only seems natural to spell 
doctor’s stuff f-i-z-z-i-k, and here you have to stick in p’s, and h’s, 
and and s’s, and c’s, as ain’t wanted at all.” 

" It is puzzling, certainly,” I said. 

" Puzzling P Puzzling ain’t nothing to it. I can write a fair 
round hand, and spell fast enough my way. Our sergeant says 
there isn’t a man on our station as can write such a nice looking 
report ; but when it comes to the spelling — there, I won’t teU you 
what he said about that ! ” 

" But you could soon improve your spelling.” 

" Think so ? ” he said eagerly. " Oh no, I don’t fancy we could.” 

" I am sure you could,” I said." The best way is to do dictation.” 

" Dictation ? What, ordering about ? ” 

" Oh no ; not that sort of dictation. I mean for me to read to 
you from a book and you write it down, and then I mark all the 
misspelt words, and you write them down and learn them.” 

"Look at that now ! ” he exclaimed. "To be sure, that’s the 
way. Now, you know, I bought a spelling book, that didn’t seem 
to do no good ; so I bought a pocket dictionary, and that was 
such a job to go through, so full of breakneck words as no one 
never heard of before, that I give that up. Why, you ain’t 
innocent after all. AVould you mind trying me ? ” 

" Mind ! no,” I cried ; " we could use either a slate or paper.” 

" So we could, and do it with either a pencil or a pen. I say, 
come : fair and square, I’ll teach you all I know if you’ll teach me 
all you know.” 

"That’s agreed,” I said. 

" Done for you,” he cried, shaking hands. "And now my pipe s 


88 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


out, and weTl go and have dinner. Wait till 1 roll down my 
sleeves and get on my stock. Why, you and I will be as .jolly as 
can be here. It’s rather a long way to go to your work, but you 
must get up a bit earlier. Two miles night and morning won’t 
kill you ; and I’ve been thinking what we’ll do. You’ve got your 
sovereign. We’ll go to a place I know, and buy one o’ them little 
iron fold-up bedsteads and a mattress and pillow and blanket, and 
stand it there. It’s breaking into your suv, but then you’ll have 
the bit o’ furniture, which will be your property, so the money 
won’t be wasted. What do you say P ” 

I was delighted, and said so. 

“ Well, then, lookye here,” he continued, as he took great pains 
with his hair and whiskers before the glass, and then put on and 
buttoned up his uniform coat, to stand before me a frank, manly 
fellow of about thirty, ** you’re my company this week, and after 
that you shall put so much of your selery into the stock to pay for 
living, and we shall both be free and independent, and what’s left 
you can shove in the bank.” 

In the bank ? ” 

“ Yes, savings-bank. I don’t mind telling you as an old Mend 
I’ve got forty-four pun ten there.” 

Mary has thirty-seven pounds in a savings-bank,” I said. 

“ Now there’s for you ! ” he said. 

Yes, she told me so ; but perhaps I oughtn’t to have told you.” 

** Well,” he said seriously, I s’pose you ouglitn’t, because it 
was told you in confidence, but I’m glad you did. She never told 
me.” 

Did you ever tell her how much you had saved P ” 

^*No, that I didn’t, only as I was saving, so it’s all fair. Look 
hero, youngster — I mean Antony,” he said, after standing staring 
in the glass for a few minutes, I tell you wha-t it is, you coming 
up has about brought matters to a head.” 

Has it, BillP” 

^‘Yes, it hayve, my boy. Do you know, I don’t for the life of 
me know why we two have been waiting; do you?” 

No,” I said shaking my head. 

^^No, nor more don’t Mary, I’ll bet a sixpence. We got engaged 
to one another, and then we said as it wouldn’t be sensible, to get 
married at once, as we might both see some one we liked better, 
don’t you see?” 

‘^Yes,” I said, feeling puzzled all the same, ^^it was very 
prudent.” 

I could have got married lots o’ times since, but I’ve never 
seen a girl as I liked so well, and I s’pose Mary hasn’t seen a chap, 
for she keeps on writing.” 

‘‘ Oh yes ; and she thinks a deal of you. She’s very proud of 
you.” 





"Is she, though ? * he said, with a satisfied smile, and giving his 
head a shake in his stock. Well, then, I tell you what: I’ll 
write and ask Mary to say the day, and then meet her at the station. 
We’ll take a little bigger place, and she’ll come up and make us 
both comfortable. What do you say to that ? ” 

I clapped my hands, and he stood smiling in an exceedingly 
simple way, and looking like a very big overgrown boy, for a few 
moments, before turning himself round to me. 

“ See that,” he said, in a quiet business-like way. " I was 
laughing at you for being soft and green just now, and I’m blessed 
if I don’t feel as if I was ten times worse. Come along, company, 
it’s ever so late, and my report says hot mutton chop, a cup of tea, 
and some bread and butter.” 

That evening, after a hearty meal, for which Revitts insisted 
upon paying, there was just time to make the purchases he pro- 
posed, which almost melted the whole of my sovereign, and then 
it was time for him to go on duty. 

They’ve cost a deal,” he said thoughtfully, " but then you’ve 
still got the money, only in another shape. Now, you get back 
home and take in the things when they come, and then sit and 
read a bit, and afterwards go to bed. I wouldn’t go out, if I was 
you.” 

We parted, and I followed out his directions, being shrewd 
enough to see that he thought me hardly fit to be trusted alone. 

The next morning I woke to find it was half-past six, and that 
Revitts had come home and was preparing for bed. He looked 
tired out, and was very black and dirty, having been, he said, at a 
fire ; but he was not too much fatigued to give me a friendly bit 
or two of advice as to getting my breakfast and going down to the 
office. 

Have a good breakfast before you start, my boy, and get some 
bread and cmeese for your lunch — that’s twopence. When you 
come back you’ll find the tea-things out, and you can make dinner 
and tea too,” 

In good time I started, leaving Revitts sleeping off his night’s 
fatigue, and about ten minutes to ten I was at the door of the 
great printing-office, flushed with exercise and dread, but eager 
aU the same to make a beginning. 

I hesitated as to whether I should go in at once or wait till it 
struck ten, but I thought that perhaps I might be some time before 
I saw Mr. Ruddle, so I walked straight in, and the man reading 
the paper in his glass case looked up at me in a very ill-used way 
as I stopped at his window. 

Yon flo-nin ? ” he said gruffly. “ Well, what is it P ” 

3, I’ve come to work,” I said. 

hy, it’s ten o’clock. Why weren’t you 






90 


THE STORY OF AHTONY GRACE. . 


Mr. Ruddle said ten o'clock, sir, and I want to see him.” 



were the gatekeeper of an 


earthly paradise. « Well, I s'pose you must pass in. Go on.” 

I went on into the passage, feeling as if the doorkeeper was the 
most important personage there, and as if the proprietors must 
make a practice of asking permission to go into their own pi ice. 

I went, then, nervously down the passage till I came to the door 
of the room where I had seen Messrs. Ruddle and Lister. It was 
ajar, and there were loud voices talking, and though I knocked 
they went on. 

“ Stern firmness is one thing, Grimstone,” I heard Mr. Ruddle 
saying, “ and bullying another.” 

“ But you don’t consider, sir, that I bully the men, do you ? ” 
said another voice which was quite familiar to me. 

“ You may call it what you like, Grimstone. There, Tm busy 
now.” 

There was a sharp step, and the door was flung wide open and 
closed, when my friend the overseer, who had been so rough to 
me on the previous day, came out and pretty nearly knocked me 
down. 


CHAPTER XVn. 


MT FTEST LITERARY EFFORTS. I MAKE ANOTHER FRIEND. 

The overseer and I stood in the dim light gazing at one another 
for a few moments, during which I seemed to read in his sharp, 
harsh face an air of resentment at my presence. 

“ Hallo 1 ” he said, in an angry voice, and evidently rejoicing at 
having encountered some one upon whom he could vent a little of 
the anger seething within him. “ What, are you here again, you 
young vagabond ? Didn’t I tell you yesterday to go about your 
business P Be off with you, or I’ll send for a policeman. How 
dare you ! What do you mean ? ” 

“ But please, sir,” I remonstrated. 

“ Will you be off ? ” he roared ; and I felt that I was about to 
he driven from the place, when the proprietor’s door was sharply 
opened and Mr. Lister appeared. 

“Confound it all, Grimstone,” he cried, “what’s the matter 
now ? Look here, sir ; I will not have this bullving and noise in 
the place.” 

“ Your father never spoke to me like that, Mr. John, when he 
was alive.” 

“My father put up with a great deal from you, Grimstone, 
because you were an old and faithful servant of the firm ; but that 


MY FIRST LITERARY EFFORTS. 


91 


is no reason why I, his son, should submit to what is sometimes 
bordering- on insolence.” 

“ Insolence, Mr. John ? ” 

“ Yes, Grimstone, insolence.” 

What is the matter ? ” said Mr. Ruddle, coming out. 

“Mr. John says I’m insolent, Mr. Ruddle,” said the overseer 
angrily ; “ was I ever insolent to you, sir, or his father ? ” 

Well, if you want the truth, Grimstone, you often were very 
insolent, only we put up with it for old acquaintance’ sake. But 
what’s the matter now .P ” 

I was just speaking to this young vagabond, who persists in 
hanging about the place, sir, when Mr. John came out and attacked 
me, sir.” 

Don’t call names, Grimstone,” said Mr. Lister hotly. ** This 
young vagabond, as you call him, is a fresh boy whom Mr. Ruddle 
has taken on, and whom I desire you to treat kindly.” 

Why didn’t he speak, then,” said the overseer angrily ; ^^how 
was I to know that he was engaged ? In Mr. Lister senior’s time 
the engaging of boys for the office was left to the overseer.” 

He stalked off, evidently in high dudgeon, leaving tlie masters 
gazing at one another. 

He grows insufferable,” said Mr. Lister angrily. ** One would 
think the place belonged to him.” 

Yes, hs is rough,” said Mr. Ruddle ; '^but he’s a good overseer, 
John, and a faithful old servant. He was with us when we first 
began. Well, my boy, you’ve come then ; now go upstairs to the 
composing-room, and ask Mr. Grimstone to give you a job j he’ll 
be a bit cross, I dare say, but you must not mind that.” 

No, sir ; I’ll try not.” 

“ That’s right,” he said, giving me a friendly nod, and I hurried 
upstairs and walked right through the composing-room to Mr. 
Grimstone’s glass case. 

He saw me coming, but, though I tapped softly at the door 
several times, he refused to take any notice of me for some minutes, 
during which I had to stand uncomfortably aware of the fact that 
I had given terrible offence to this man in authority, by allowing 
myself to be engaged downstairs after he had bade me go. 

He was busy, pen in hand, looking over some long, narrow 
pieces of paper, and kept on turning them over and over, making 
his spectacles flash as he changed his position, and directing the 
top of his very shiny bald head at me, till at last he raised it, gave 
a start, and turned as if astonished at seeing me there ; but it was 
poor pantomime and badly done. 

Well, what is it ? ” he said. 

If you please, sir, Mr. Lister sent me up to ask you to give me 
a job.” 

‘‘Me give you a job,” he said, in a menacing tone; "why, I 


92 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


thought you would he hanger-on down below, and not come up 
into the office, where you’d get your nice white hands dirtied. 
What job can I give you ? What can you do ? What do you 
know ? Here, Smith, take this boy, and give him a page of pie to 
dis.” 

The big, fat^headed boy came up from a distant part of the 
room, scowled at me, and led me to one of the desk-like frames, 
upon which were four large open trays full of compartments of 
various sizes. 

“Here you are ! ” he said, “lay holt; ” and he thrust a little 
heavy square paper packet into my hands. “ It’s burjoyce ” — so it 
sounded to me ; “ look alive, and then come for another.” 

He went away, leaving me balancing the heavy packet in my 
hand. It was about the size and thickness of a small book, but 
what next to do with it, or how I was to do it, I did not 
know. 

Of course I know now that it was the petty, contemptible re- 
venge of a little-minded man to set me, a totally uninstructed 
novice, to do that which an old practised compositor will shelve if 
he can, as an uncongenial task. To “ dis a page of burjoyce pie” 
was, in fact, to distribute — that is, place in its proper compart- 
ments, or in the case — every large and small letter, space and 
point, of a quantity of bourgeois, or ordinary newspaper type, that 
had been accidentally mixed, or “ pied” as it is technically termed. 
The distribution of an ordinary page or column of type is com- 
paratively easy, for the skilled workman reads it off word by 
word, and drops the letters dexterously in the compartment as- 
signed ; but in “ pie ” the letters and spaces are all jumbled, and 
the task is troublesome and slow. 

There was I, then, with about as easy a task as if I had been 
suddenly handed the various parts of a watch, and told to put 
them together; and I felt helpless and ashamed, not daring to 
interrupt any of the busy men intent upon their work at the 
various frames. 

An hour must have elapsed before I felt that I dare venture to 
go towards Mr. Grimstone’s glass case, and I was about desper- 
ately to tell him that I was ignorant and helpless, and quite unfit 
to do what he had set me, when the dark, stern-eyed man I had 
seen on the previous day came round by where I stood. 

He gazed at me curiously, and gave me a nod, and was passing 
on, when I desperately exclaimed : 

“ If you please, sir ” 

“ Eh ? What is it, my boy ? ” he said. 

“ I was told, sir, to dis this pie,” I said, fearful that I was mak- 
ing some absurd blunder about the word pie. 

“ Well, why don’t you do it ? Get the sponge off the stone and 
give it a good soaking in a galley.” 


MY FIEST LITERARY EFFORTS. 


93 


'•rm very sorry, sir,” I said, encouraged by his quiet, kind way, 

' but J don’t know how.” 

Haven’t you been in a printing-office before ? ” 

No, sir.” 

“ And never distributed type ? ” 

“No, sir.” 

“ How absurd ! Who set you to do it ? ” 

“ Mr. Grimstone, sir.” 

“ But does he know that you have never handled type . 

“Yes, sir.” 

Ass ! ” he muttered. “Here, come along with me, my man. 
No ; better not, perhaps. Leave that packet alone, my boy. 
There, lay it down. Stand here and try and learn the case.” 

“ Learn the case, sir ? ” I said, with my heart sinking within me 
at being given another impossible task. 

“Yes, it’s very easy; only wants time,” he said kindly. 
“Here, pick up one of these pieces of type,” he continued, dexter- 
ously taking up a little thin bit of black metal, “ like this, and 
turn it in your fingers, and see what letter is stamped on the end, 
and then put it back in the same compartment of the case.” 

“ Is that tray the case, sir ? ” 

“ Yes, quite right, go on. You can come and ask me anything 
you don’t Know.” 

I darted a grateful look at him, and eagerly began my task, 
though in fear and trembling, lest Mr. Grimstone should come and 
find fault because I had not “dis’d the pie.” 

Few people, I tliink, realize the sufferings of a sensitive boy at 
school, or at his first launching into life, when set to some task 
beyond his perception or powers. The dread of being considered 
stupid ; the fear of the task-masters, the strangeness, the imcon- 
genial surroundings, all combine to make up a state of mental 
torture that produces illness ; and yet it is often ridiculed, and 
the sufferer treated with cruelty for non-performance of that 
which, simple to the initiated, is to him in his ignorance an utter 
impossibility. 

It was with a sense of relief I cannot describe that I began to 
lift the metal types one by one, looked at them, and put them 
back ; and I was not long in finding out that, while the capital 
letters in the upper of the two trays before me ran nearly regularly 
A, B, C, D, and so on, and beneath them the figures 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., 
the lower case was a perfect puzzle. 

The compartments were not like those above, all small squares, 
and the same size, but some were very large, and some very small ; 
some were long, and some were square ; but I found that they 
were made upon a regular plan. For instance, there was one 
very large compartment nearly in the middle at the top of the 
lower tiay, that was evidently six times as big as the small com- 


94 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


partments ; while below and beside it were many more that were 
four times as big as the small ones ; others being only twice as bi^. 

I naturally examined the large compartment first, and found it 
full of little thin slips of metal nearly an inch long, at the end of 
each of which, and beautifully formed, was the letter e. There* 
was no doubt about it, and it was evident that there were more 
. e’s than anything else. Then under it I found the compartment, 
full of A’s, and away to the left, w’s and m’s; jf’s, d% u’a, o’s, a’s, 
and r’s were in other large compartments, and it gradually 
dawned upon my mind that these letters were placed where they 
would be handiest for use, and that there was the largest number 
of those that would be most frequently required. 

My surmise was quite right, and with this idea as the key, I 
soon found out that little-used .r and z were in very smaU num- 
bers, in the most out-of-the-way parts of the tray, just as were the 
double letters cs and ce, etc. One compartment close under my 
hand, and very full, puzzled me the most, for the pieces of metal 
therein were short, and had no letters on the end ; and at last, 
after trying in vain to understand their meaning, I determined to 
ask the dark man next time he passed, and went on trying to 
master my task with the strange clicking noise made by the men 
going on all round. 

I hardly dared glance about, but in the casual glimpses I stole, 

I began to understand now that the men about me were picking 
up, letter by letter, the types, to form words, and arranging them 
in little curiously shaped tools they held in their hands. 

I had been busily learning my letters for about half an hour, 
when the big, fat-headed boy came up to me. 

Now then ! ” he said, in a bullying toue that was a very good 
imitation of the overseer’s, “done that page? ” 

“No ! ” I said. 

“ You ain’t ? ” 

“ No ; I did not know how.” 

“ Oh, you’ll catch it, just, when Mr. Grimstone knows. You 
ain’t coming here to do just as you like ; and I tell you what it 
is ” 

Well, what is it, boy ? ” said a quiet, stern voice, and my 
lieart gave a joyful thump as I saw the dark man come up. 

“ Please, he ain’t dis’d this here pie.” 

“ No ; he did not know how. I set him to learn the case.” 

*' Put Mr. Grimstone said he was to ” 

Jem Smith, do you know you are a fool ? ” said the dark man 
quietly. 

“ I dessay I am, Mr. Ilallett, but Mr. Grimstone said as this boj/ 
was to ” 

“ And if you don’t go about your business I shall box your ears.’ 

“ No, you ” 


MY FIRST LITERARY EFFORTS. 


95 


Hw did not finish his sentence, for there was something’ in the 
deep-set dark eyes which had such an effect upcm him that he 
sneaked off, and I turned to my protector. 

Would you please tell me why these little things have no 
letters on their ends, sir ? ” I said. 

“ Because they are spaces, my hoy. Don’t you remember in 
reading a book there is a little distance between every word ? ” 

** Yes, sir,” I said eagerly ; “and after a full stop there’s a bigger 
space.” 

“ To be sure ! ” he said, smiling, and his pale face looked less 
stern and se-^ere. “ Look : these little things, as you call them, 
but as we call them, thick spaces, go between every word, and 
these square ones after a full stop. How are you getting on ? ” 

“ I know that’s e, sir.” 

“ Yes ; go on.” 

“ And that’s h, and that o, and u — m — a — r — i — 8 — o — n — t” I 
said, touching the boxes in turi^. 

“ Good, very good,” he said, “ and what is that ? ” 

“That, sir ?—dr 
“ No, it is p. And that ? ” 

“ Oh, that is 5.” 

“ No, it is q. Now you know the meaning of mind your js’s and 
y’s. You must learn the difference, and try to recollect this; all 
the letters, you see, are reversed, like a seal.” 

“ Like the motto on papa’s seal. Yes, I see, sir,”! said eagerly. 
“ That’s right, my boy,” he said looking at me curiously. “ Go 
on, I am too busy to stay.” 

“ Now ! what’s all this? ” said Mr. Grimstone, bustling up with 
Jem Smith. 

“ Please, sir,” said the latter, “ I telled him as he was to ” 

“ I found the boy unable to do what was set him, Mr. Grim- 
stone,” said my protector quietly, “ and told him to go on with 
learning his case. The boy has never been in an office before.” 

“ That was for me to know, Mr. Hallett,” cried the overseer, 

growing red in the face. “ What the devil do you mean by ” 

“ Interfering, Mr. Grimstone ? I did it because I was sure 
you were too good a manager to wish time to be wasted in this 
large office. And I must ask you, please when you speak to me, 
to omit these coarse expressions.” 

“ Of all the insolence ” 

“Insolent or not, sir,” said the dark man sternly, “have the 
goodness to remember that T always treat you with respect, and I 
expect the same from you. Excuse me, but a quarrel between us 
wdll not improve your position with the men.” 

Mr. Grimstone looked at him furiously ; and tui-ning redder in 
the face than ever, seemed about to burst into a tirade of angry 
language, but my protector met his look in a way that quelleil 


96 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE 


him, and turning upon the fat-headed boy, who was looking on 
open-mouthed, the overseer gave him a sounding box on the ear. 

“ What are you standing gaping there for, you lazy young 
scoundrel ? ” he roared ; go and wash those galleys, and do 
them well.” 

Then, striding off, he went into his glass-case, while Jem Smith, 
m a compartment at the end of an avenue of cases, began to brush 
some long lengths of type, and whenever I glanced at him, he 
sliook his fist, as he showed his inflamed eyes red with crying and 
his face blackened by contact with his dirty hands. 

My protector, Mr. Hallett, had left me at once, and I saw no 
more of him for some tim3, as I worked away, sorry at having 
been the innocent means of getting him into a quarrel. At last, 
just as I was very intent in puzzling out the difference between 
p’s and 5’’s I started, for the great lubberly boy came up close 
behind me. 

I’ll give you a warming when you goes out to dinner, see if I 
don’t,” he whispered; but he shuffled off directly, as Mr. Hallett 
came towards me, saw that I was busy, and after giving me a 
friendly nod, went back, leaving his calm, strangely stem face so 
impressed upon me, that I kept finding myself thinking of him, 
his eyes seeming to stare at me from out of every box. 

But still I worked on, feeling each moment more and more sure 
of my way, and at last in a fit of enterprise I set to work and 
managed to find the letters forming my own name, and laid them 
side bv side. 

I felt no little nervous dread as dinner-time approached, for Jem 
Smith’s warming was in waiting; but as one omock struck, Mr. 
Hallett came up to me while the other men were hurrying off, 
and said kindly : 

“ Did that boy threaten you ? ” 

He — he sa'd something, sir,” I replied, hesitating. 

I thought so. He’s gone now, so don’t go out to dinner, my 
man. 1 can give you a little of mine. I’ll speak to him before 
you go to-night,” 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

MY FRIEND JEM SMITH MAKES ME AMBITIOtTB. 

£ WAS receiving my first lessons in the fact that there is as much 
good-will as ill-will in the world — in other words, that there reaPy 
is, as has been so poetically expressed, a silver lining to eve^y 
cloud ; and I gladly availed myself of Mr. Haliett’s kind offer, fol- 
lowing him to his frame, as they called the ^eleton desks that 


MY FRIEND JEM SMITH IVIAKES ME AMBITIOUS. 97 


supported the cases, and there sitting down close by him to par- 
take of some bread and meat which he brought out carefully- 
wrapped in a clean white napkin. 

“ Don’t be afraid, my boy,” he said, make a good meal ; and I 
should advise you, for the present, to bring your dinner with you 
and eat it hero. Iletter than going into the streets.” 

He then ate his own dinner quickly, and without taking the 
slightest notice of me beyond seeing once that I had a sufficiency 
pf the bread and meat, but took out an oblong memorandum-book, 
and began busily drawing and making some calculation. 

As he worked at this, I sat and had a good look at him, and 
could see that his large, massive head was covered with crisp dark 
hair that was already slightly sprinkled with grey. From time to 
time he raised his eyes from his book to look up, as if diving into 
the distance, or trying to catch some idea that was wandering 
away from him, and at such moments his deeply set eyes had a 
curiously intense look about them, while his forehead was deeply 
marked with thoughtful lines. 

I don’t think he was more than thirty, but he looked, so to 
speak, vigorously old, or, rather, worn like some piece of steel that 
has been used hard, but has grown sharper and more elastic by 
that use. He was a tall, well-made man, but thin and spare, 
giving the idea of one who was ascetic in his habits and devoting 
himself to some particular end. 

He did not speak to me again, and I was not sorry, for there 
was that in his face and ways that rather repelled than attracted, 
and I somehow felt that if he, in his quiet, firm way, were angry 
with me, I should be more alarmed than by the noisy bullying of 
Mr. Grimstone, the overseer. 

Two o’clock was signalled by -the coming back of the composi- 
tors, who resumed their white aprons and rolled up their sleeves, 
when the sharp clicking noise went on as before. Mr. Hallett, at 
the first entrance of one of his fellow-workmen, had shut his book 
with a snap, and thrust it ir.to his breast, rolled up the napkin, 
and then, turning to me with a nod, — 

Two o’clock, ray boy,” he said. “ Get on with your work.” 

As he spoke he resumed his own, and I went back to my case. 

I had hardly been there ten seconds, and was diligently making 
sure which was the compartment containing the letter u, which 
had a terribly strong resemblance to the letter n, when Mr. Grim- 
stone suddenly pounced on me from round the end of the case. I 
say pounced, for it was so wonderfully like a cat coming upon a 
mouse. He seemed surprised and disappointed at finding me 
there, though I did not comprehend his looks then, and after star- 
ing hard for a moment or two, he went away. 

The hours glided away, and I was so interested in what T was 
doing, that I hardly noticed the lapse of time, while, long before 


08 


THE STORY OF AJS^TONY GRACE. 


the afternoon was past, the work the men were engag-ed upon 
seemed so attractive that I felt impelled to imitate them by trying 
to pick up the letters forming various words, and then replacing 
them in the different boxes. 

The first time it was rather difficult, but the second time I got 
on pretty well, and I was just begintiiiig for the third time, when 
Mr. Hallett came round my way and caught me in the act. I felt 
very guilty, but he seemed to approve, and walked away, to 
return directly with a little sliding steel thing, such as the men 
were using. 

Here’s a stick, my boy ; try and place the letters, nick upper- 
most, in that.” 

I took the stick, as he called it, and found that as fast as I placed 
a letter in, it seemed to do its best to jump out again ; then one 
letter got upon another, or two or three appeared to quarrel and 
join in a regular squabble, so that their awkwardness and utter 
refusal to lie quietly side by side at last put me in a profuse per- 
spiration. 

I was busily fumbling about when Mr. Grimstone, whose voice I 
had often heard scolding different men, came round, saw what I 
was doing, and snatched the composing-stick away. 

Tchah 1 What waste of time ! Come along here,” he cried 
angrily, and I followed him to his glass office, where he sat down 
upon a worn stool. “ Now then,” he said, sharply, Fve decided 
to give you a trial.” 

I remember thinking that he was very stupid to assume that he 
had full authority, when J knew that he had not, but, of course, 1 
was silent. 

“And now mind this, sir: I am overseer here, and what I say 1 
will have done, I have done. You hear ? ” 

“ Yes, sir,” I said. 

“And now we understand one another.” 

Saying this, he bounced down from his stool again, and led me 
to the end of the large room and through a door into a dirty place 
with a great leaden sink, water, and brushes, and a pot containing 
some liquid, 

Jem Smith was there, having just brought in a long narrow 
tray containing a column of type. 

“ Here, Smith, show this boy how to wash a galley ; and see 
that he does it well.” 

Jem Smith grinned at me as soon as we were left alone, and I 
saw plainly enough that he meant to have some compensation for 
the box on the ear he had received ; but 1 tried hard to contain 
myself, and meant to submit patiently to anything that might 
follow. 

“Here, ketch hold o’ that galley,” he said sharply, “and look 
here, young man, don’t you get trying to play the sneak here, and 


MY naiEND JEM SMITH MAKES ME AMBITIOUS. 99 


begin getting old Hallett to take your part. He’s only a sneak, 
and everybody here hates him ’cause he won’t take his beer. You 
keep away from him, or it’ll he the worse for you. I’ve only got 
to tell the other boys, and they’ll make it so warm for you as 
vou’U wish as you’d never come here. Now, then, why don’t you 
ketch hold o’ that galley ? ” 

I don’t know what a galley is,” I said sturdily. 

“ Don’t know what a galley is,” he said, imitating my way of 
speaking ; “ you’re a pretty sort of fellow to come and get work at 
a printing-office. There, ketch holt, stoopid : that’s the galley ; 
put it here, and you needn’t be so precious frightened of getting 
your fingers black. There’s the brush, dip it, and fetch all that ink 
off.” 


I took the brush, dipped it in the liquor in the pot, and on 
brushing the surface of the type found that the strong solution 
easily brought off all the black ink ; and 1 ended as instructed, by 
thoroughly rinsing the type and placing it to drain. 

This done, I had to wash several more galleys, with the result 
that I was made tolerably black ; and to make matters worse, my 
companion brought in a black roller of some soft material, and 
dabbed it against my cheek. 

I plucked up my spirit and felt ready to strike out, but some- 
how I kept my anger down, and after washing the roller in turn, 
I was allowed to dry my hands and clean my face, which Jem 
Smith persuaded me to do with the strong solution of potash, 
making it tingle smartly ; and, but for the rapid application of 
pure water, I believe the skin would have been made sore. 

This seemed to afford the young ruffian intense delight, and 
taking up the brush, he dipped it in the potash and tried to brush 
my hair. 

I retreated from him as far as I could, but he got between me 
and the door, and with the malignant pleasure felt by some boys 
in persecuting those who are weaker than themselves, he caught 
me by the collar. 

Just you call out, that’s all,” he said, “ and I’ll half kill you. 
Hold still, you little sneak. You make so much noise as’ll reach 
outside, and I’ll jump on you.” 

We were close beside the lead sink and the pot of solution — 
lye, as the printers call it ; and now a new idea seemed to come 
into the spiteful young wretch’s mind, for, throwing down the 
brush, he seized hold of me with both hands, and as we 
struggled, being much the stronger, he got behind me, thrust his 
knee violently into my back, and brought me down kneeling before 
the great earthen pot. And now for the first time I saw what he 
intended to do, namely, to thrust my face and head into the black 
caustic solution, and, in spite of my resistance, he got it down 
lower and lower. 


100 


THE STOEY OF AHTONY GEACE. 


I might have shrieked out for help, and I might have cried for 
mercy ; but, moved partly by his threats, partly by shame, I re- 
frained, and made use of all my strength to escape, but in vain ; 
strive as I would, he forced me down lower and lower, and then 
by one quick effort placed a hand on the back of my head and 
thrust it right into the filthy water. 

Fortunately for me it was but a momentary affair, and the next 
instant he allowed me to struggle up and run blindly to the sink,* 
where, perhaps, a little alarmed by his success, he filled a bowl 
with clean water, leaving the tap running, as 1 strove to sluice off 
the blinding, tingling fluid. 

I was in the midst of this, and with soaked necktie and* collar, 
kept on bathing my face and hair, when I heard Mr. Grimstone’s 
voice at the door, and hastily thrust my fingers into my ears to 
clear them. 

“ What’s he doing P ” 

“ Washing hisself, sir.” 

“ Washing himself f* ” 

Yes, sir ; he said it was such a nasty dii-ty job to brush galleys 
that he must have a good clean.” 

“ Where’s the towel ? ” I said blindly, for my eyes smarted so 
that I dare not open them, and they grew so painful that I hurried 
once more to the sink and bathed them with clear water before 
pressing my hair as dry as 1 could, and then using my handker- 
chief to wipe my face. 

I now opened my eyes, and saw that there was a very dirty 
Jack-towel on a roller behind the door, to which 1 hastily ran. 

Look here, sir,” said Mr. Grimstcne, as I hastily rubbed away 
at my head ; we can’t have these goings-on here. What have 
you been doing ? ” 

“ I think he’s been using the lye, sir,” cried the young hypo- 
crite. “ I told him it was only for the type.” 

“It isn’t true, sir,” I cried indignantly; when a compositor 
came up to the door, and Mr. Grimstone was called away. 

The moment he was gone, Smith darted at me, and thrust his 
doubled fist hard against my face. 

“You say a word agen me,” he said, “and I’ll half kill yer. 
ril smash yer, that I will, so look out.” 

He went out of the place, leaving me hot and indignant, rubbing 
away at my tingling head, which I at length got pretty dry and 
combed before a scrap of glass stuck by four tacks in a corner ; 
and when I had finished it was in time to see the men just return- 
ing from their tea and resuming their Avork. 

Not being told to do anything else, I went back to the case, and 
3ontinued to learn the boxes, not much the worse for my adven- 
ture, only feeling uncomfortably wet about the neck. 

At last the clock pointed to eight, and, following the example 


WILLIAM EEVITTS ON LESSONS. 


101 


of the r^t, I hurried out of the great office, eager to get back to 
Mr. Revitta before he went on duty, for I wanted to ask him a 
question. 

I got up to the street in Pentonville just as he was coming out 
of the house, and in answer to his “ Halloa ! here you are, then,” 
I caught hold of his arm. 

“ Bill I ” I exclaimed, panting with excitement, ** can you teach 
me how to fight ? ” 


CHAPTER XIX. 

WILLIAM BEVITTS ON LESSONS* 

Some time passed before William Revitts replied in full to my 
question. He had, of course, asked me what I meant, and I had 
explained to him the treatment I had received, but his duties and 
mine kept us a great deal apart. One night, however, when he 
had retuimed to day-duty, he was seated in his shirt sleeves talk- 
ing to me, and said all of a sudden : 

“ Yes, I could teach you how to fight, Antony.” 

** And will you ? ” I said eagerly. 

“ Give me my ’bacco and pipe off the chimney-piece.” 

I handed them to him, and waited patiently while he filled and 
lighted his pipe, and then all at once, along with a puff of smoke, 
he exclaimed : 

^‘No, I sha’n’t. Fighting’s all blackguardism, as Pknow as well 
as most men. I’ve had the taking up of some of the beauties as 
go in for it, and beauties they are. I don’t say as if I was you 1 
wouldn’t give that Master Jem Smith an awful crack for himself 
if he meddled with me again ; but I should do it when I was in 
a passion, and when he’d hurt me. You’ll hit as hard again then, 
and serve him right. Now let’s have a turn at spelling.” 

We did “have a turn at spelling,” and I dictated while Revitts 
wrote, varying the task with bits of advice to me — absurd enough, 
some of them, while others were as shrewd and full of common 
sense. 

By that time I had rapidly begun to fish up odds and ends of 
experience, such as stood me in good stead, and, in spite of what 
was really little better than contemptible persecution on the 
overseer’s part, I was making some little way at the printing- 
office. 

. I shall not soon forget the feeling of pride with which on the 
first Friday night I heard my name called out by a busiuess-liks 
clerk with a book, after he had summoned everyone in the room, 
and received from him a little paper-bag containing my wages. 


102 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ You haven’t been full time, Grace,” he said, entering the sum 
paid in a book; “but the firm said I was to pay you for the week, 
as you were a beginner.” 

As soon as 1 thought I was unobserved, I counted out seven 
shillings, a sum that showed that I was a little favoured, for 
honestly I believe that I was not worth that amount to my 
employers. 

Hardly had I made sure of my good fortune than I had a visit 
from Jem Smith, who came up grinning. 

“ Now, then,” he said, “ old Grim’s gone for the night, and 
you’ve got to come down and pay your footing.” 

I stared at him in my ignorance, but, fully under the impression 
that something unpleasant was meant, I resolutely determined to 
stay where I was, and I was saved from further persecution by 
Mr. Hallett coming up, which was the signal for Jem Smith to 
sneak off. I asked Hallett what was meant, and he explained to 
me that it was a custom for working men on entering a new place 
to pay for some beer for their fellow-workmen. 

“ But don’t you pay a penny to the young wolves,” he said, and 
I determined that I would not. 

I was well on in the second week, and during the intervening 
days I had been set to every dirty and objectionable task Mr, 
Grimstone could invent for me, but I did them patiently and well. 
I had seen nothing of my employers, and but little of Mr, Hallett, 
who seemed too busy to take much notice of me; but he somehow 
had a knack of turning up in emergencies, just when I required 
help and counsel, showing that he kept an eye upon me for my good. 

I noticed as I sat beneath a frame eating my dinner in the 
composing-room that he always employed a good deal of his time 
in drawing or calculating, and I found, too, that he was no great 
favourite with his fellow-workmen, who niclmamed him the steam- 
engine, because he worked so rapidly and did so much. It was 
very plain, too, that the overseer hated him, giving him the most 
difficult and unpleasant tasks, but they were always willingly 
done by Mr. Hallett, who was too good a workman to be spared. 

I had just completed the washing of some very dirty type one 
day, and, according to orders, made my way up to Mr. Grimstone’s 
glass-case, very dirty and grubby-looking, no doubt, when I stared 
with surprise on seeing there before me a little cleanly-shaven 
man who, except in clothes, was the exact counterpart of Mr. Rowle. 

Somehow or other I had been so occupied, and my mind so 
intent upon the task given me, that I had thought no more about 
asking to see him ; and now, here he was, Mr. Howie’s twin 
brother, in angry altercation with the overseer, while Jem Smith 
stood in the door. The latter had been let off a good many dirty 
tasks of late, and I had succeeded to them, hut the promotion he 
had received did not seem to have been attended with success. 


WILUAM REVITTS ON LESSONS. 


103 


“Now look here, Grimstone,” the little man was saying, “you 
needn't bark at me, for I don’t care a pinch of snuff for all your 
snarls. I asked you to send me up the best boy you had, to read, 
and you sent me your worst.” 

“ Mr. Rowle, it is false, sir.” 

“ And I say it is true, and that you did it all out of your crass 
obstinacy and determination to be as disagreeable as you can to 
everybody in the place.” 

“ I sent you up one of my best boys, Mr. Rowle.” 

“And 1 say you sent me your very worst — as thick-headed, 
stupid a dunce as ever entered the place. Look here,” he con- 
tinued, flourishing a sheet of manuscript in one hand, a long slip 
of printed paper in the other. “ He can’t read that plain piece of 
writing, and as to the print, why, he’s little better.” 

“ No such thing, sir,” said Mr. Grimstone, fuming. 

“ Don’t tell me ^ no such thing,’ ” said the little man fiercely. 
“ Why, the biggest fool in the office would do better. Here, 
boy,” he cried to me, as I stood there with my hands as black as 
dirty tj^ie could make them j “ come here.” 

I went up to him. 

“ He’s no good,” said Mr. Grimstone sharply. “ He has only 
just come.” 

“ Don’t talk to me, sir,” cried Mr. Rowle angrily. “ You can’t 
pick out a decent boy, so I must do it myself. Here, boy, read 
that out aloud.” 

I took the piece of paper with trembling bands, doubting my 
own power to read the lines of crabbed writing, and feeling that 
even if I could read it I should give dire offence to the overseer 
by so doing ; but I could not help myself, and raising the piece of 
manuscript written closely on a sheet of ruled foolscap, I saw that 
it was just such a legal document as I had often copied at Mr. 
Blakeford’s. In fact, something of the old feeling of dread that 
I used to experience when receiving such a paper from him made 
a huskiness come in my throat, but clearing my voice, I 
began : 

“ ^ And the aforesaid deponent also saith that in such a case it 
would be necessary for the said lessor, his heirs, executors, ad- 
ministrators, and assigns, to make over and deliver, whenever and 
wheresoever the aforesaid lessee, his heirs, executors, adminis- 
trators or assigns should desire him so to do ” 

“ Stop ! ” said the little man tightening his lips and taking a 
pinch of snuff. “ You did not read that exactly as it’s written 
there.” 

“ No, sir,” I said, “ ' executors, administrators, and assigns,’ 
were all contracted.” 

“ There I ” he exclaimed, turning to the overseer triumphantly. 
“What did I say? Here’s the first boy I meet, fresh from the 


104 


THE STORY OF AxNTONY GRACE. 


Ije-tub, and he reads it straight off wit hout a blunder, and better 
than you could have read it yourself. . Here, boy, read that.” 

He took a letter from his pocket, written in a terribly puzzling 
band, and placed it before me. 

I took it, hesitated for a moment, and then began : 

“ ‘My dear sir, — I have given the most careful consideration to 

your proposal, and I am quite willing to — to — to — to ” If 

you please, sir, I’m very sorry,” I stammered, “ but I can’t make 
out that word.” 

“ No, boy, nor I neither. I don’t believe the writer can. There, 
go and wash those dirty hands,” he continued, snatching the letter 
from me. 

“ No : stop I ” cried Mr. Grimstone wrathfuUy ; “ I want that 
boy here.” 

“Then you may take your great clever noodle, Jem Smith,” 
said the little man. 

“ Mr. Rowle, I will not have my rules and regulations broken 
in this way, sir.” 

“ Hang you and your rules,” said the little man. “ Have a pinch ? 
No ? Then let it alone.” 

“ I cannot and will not spare that boy,” cried Mr. Grimstone, 
motioning away the snuff-box. 

For answer the little man tightened his lips, snapped-to the 
lid of his snuff-box, hastily took a pinch, snapped. Ins fingers in 
the overseer’s face, and taking me by the shoulder, marched me 
before him towards the door, and past Mr. Hallett’s frame. 

“Here, get your jacket, my lad,” said the little man. “You can 
wash your hands upstairs.” 

Mr. Hallett nodded to me and looked, as I thought, pleased as 
I passed him, and preceding my new taskmaster, I went up to 
the next floor, where he led me to a glass-case, exactly like that 
occupied by Mr. Grimstone and the reader in his room, the sides 
being similarly decorated with slips of paper hanging from nails. 

He showed me where to wash, and, this done, 1 was soon by his 
side, reading steadily on to him various pieces of manuscript, 
while, spectacles on nose, he pored over and made corrections on 
the margins of the printed slips of paper that were constantly being 
brought to him by a youth who printed them from the column 
galleys at a small hand-press. 

I got on pretty well, for my home training had made manuscript 
easy to me. In fact, I had often copied pieces for my father, con- 
taining letters from various naturalist friends, while my sojourn 
at Mr. Blakeford’s had made anything of a legal character perfectly 
dear. 

That night, when it was time to go, and I had had no greater 
unpleasantness to contend with than several severe fits of sneezing 
brought, on when the little man used his snuff-box, I timidly 


WILLIAM REVITTS ON LESSONS. 


ion 


asked him if I was wanted the next day, for as yet no oppor- 
tunity had served for making known my knowledge of his 
brother. 

Wanted 1 ” he cried; “why, I had serious thoughts of locking 
you up, boy, so as to make sure of you to-morrow. Wanted ! 
Yes: Eve got you, and 1 mean to keep you; and if Grimstone 
says another word — but only let him. Look here : you are very 
stupid yet, but you’ll soon improve ; and mind this, come with 
clean hands and face to-morrow, and clean apron.” 

“ Yes, sir,” I said, and then I hesitated. 

“ Well, what is it P ” 

“ Please, sir, you are Mr. Jabez Rowle, are you not ?” 

“ Yes, and what then ? ” he said shortly. 

“ Only, sir, that Mr. Peter Rowle, who is a friend of mine, said 
I might mention his name to you.” 

“ Oh, he did, did he ? A^ell, he need not have taken the 
trouble. There, be off, and mind you are here in good time.” 

This was damping, especially as Mr. Jabez Rowle took snuff 
viciously, and stood staring before him, tapping his box, and mut- 
tering angrily, in which state I left him, and made the best of my 
way home. 

1 was in good time next morning, but, all the same, there sat 
Mr. Jabez Rowle in his glass-case waiting for me, and as I entered 
and said “ Good morning, sir,” he just nodded shortly and pointed 
with the penholder in his hand to a piece of paper. 

“ Go on I ” he said ; and, taking it up, I began to read. 

“Not quite so fast, and say par when you come to a fresh 
paragraph.” 

I read on, making a good many blunders in my anxiety to 
be right, but, I presume, getting on very well, for Mr. Rowle 
found but little fault, as he seemed to dart his pen dowm at every 
error in the slip proofs before him — turned letters, jo’s where 
y’s should be, and for c’s were often in the place of e’s; and 
then there were omissions, repetitions, absence of spaces or points, 
a score of different little omissions on the compositor’s part ; and, 
besides aU these, the busy pen made marks and signs that were 
cabalistic to me. 

This had gone on about a couple of days, and I was reading 
away to him what I believed was a prayer in a chancery-bill, 
when Mr. Jabez suddenly laid down his pen, took out his snuff- 
box, and said, looking me full in the face, “ How’s Peter ? ” 

“ I beg your pardon, sir ? ” 

“ I say, how’s Peter ? ” 

“ How’s Peter, sir ? ” 

“ Don’t pretend to be stupid, boy, when you’re as sharp as a 
needle,” he cried, tapping the desk angrily with his snuff-box. 
“ Didn’t you say you knew my brother Peter? ” 


106 






THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

“ Oh yes, sir I he was very kind to me, but I haven’t seen him 
for some weeks. He was quite well then.” 

« Humph I look old?” 

He looks very much like you, sir.” 

" Then he does look old. We’re very fond of one another, boy, 
but we always quarrel ; so we never meet. * And your petitioner 
furthermore sayeth — ’” 

“ I beg your pardon, sir.” 

" * And your petitioner furthermore sayeth ’ — get on, boy : go 
on.” 

I dashed at the manuscript again, for he had resumed his work, 
and read on to the end, for he made no further inquiries about his 
brother. 

I soon grew quite accustomed to reading, and found that Mr. 
Jabez Rowle meant what he said about keeping to me, for I was 
regularly installed as reading-boy, and, as I have said, I was 
delighted with the change. I often met Jem Smith, and, from 
his looks, it was evident that he bore me no good will, and, to be 
frank, I felt rather revengeful for his treatment. One day, during 
the dinner hour, I went down into the lower part before the men 
came back, and, after getting some slips which Mr. Howie had told 
me to have ready for him, my enemy pounced upon me, coming in 
at the door just as I was about to leave. 

‘‘ Now I’ve got yer, then,” he cried, with a malicious grin, and, 
rushing at me, I had only time to evade the first onslaught by run- 
ning round the frames, when a hot chase ensued, ending m my 
being brought to bay, and receiving blow after blow from my 
stronger antagonist. 

I did all I could to defend myself, till, closing with me, he held 
me tight with one arm, and struck me so cruelly in the face, 
that it roused me to greater efforts, and, after a short wrestle, 
I was free. 

It was but a moment’s respite before he dashed at me again, 
and, in my rage and desperation, I struck out at him so fiercely 
that my fist caught him full between the eyes, making him stagger 
and catch at the first object he could to save himself, and the re- 
sult was that he pulled over a full case of small type. There was 
a crash, I uttered a cry, and some twenty pounds of type were 
scattered in confusion all over the floor. 

Before I had recovered from my horror, the door was thrown 
open, and Mr. Grimstone came hurrying in. 

What's this — what’s this ? ” he cried. 

** Please, sir, Grace was playing larks with one of the cases, and 
he let it fall.” 

Then Mr. Grace shall soon find out what it is to destroy the 
property of the firm in this wanton way,” he cried. 

Indeed, sir ” J began. 


WILLIAM LEVITTS ON LESSONS. 


107 


" Not a word, sir — not a word I ” he cried. Smith, go about 
your work. You, Grace, pick up every bit of that pie at once.” 

But please, sir, I did not knock it down, and Mr. Rowle is 
waiting for me.” 

“ Pick it up, sir.” 

But Mr. Kowle * 

“ Pick it up, sir.” 

I was so hot and excited that I was about to declare angrily 
that I would not, when I caught Mr. Hallett’s eyes gazing fixedly 
at me, and without a word, but feeling half-choked with anger 
and indignation, I fetched a galley and began to pick up the 
fallen type. 

I had not been engaged in my uncongenial task many minutes 
before Mr. Jabez Rowle came down to see where I was, and I 
noticed that there was quite a triumphant look in Mr. Griinstone’s 
eyes as he said I must stay and pick up all the type, the matter 
being compromised on the understanding that as soon as the metal 
was picked up I was to resume my reading upstairs, and, by Mr. 
Grimstone’s orders, stay in every dinner-time and get to the office 
an hour sooner every morning till I had set up and distributed the 
whole of the pie. 

How I dwelt on the injustice of that task ! It was one which 
seemed to give Mr. Grimstone great satisfaction, for it took my 
inexperienced fingers many weeks, and I had to toil very hard. 
But all the same, it was no waste of time, for it gave me 
dexterity in handling type such as I should not otherwise have 
had. 

I bad suffered a great deal from anxiety lest some morning 
Mr. Blakeford should step into the office and claim me ; for, un- 
pleasant as were my dealings with Mr. Grimstone, Jem Smith, 
and through the latter with several of the other boys, I tlioroughly 
enjoyed my present existence. Revitts was very kind, and, in 
spite of his sharp abruptness, I did not dislike quaint old Mr. 
Jabez Rowle, who seemed never to be happy unless he was cor- 
recting proofs. 

My dread arose from the thought that Revitts might in some 
communication to Mary be the cause of her naming my where- 
abouts to the lawyer. Then I was afraid that Mr. Ruddle might 
write down and make inquiries. Lastly, that Mr. Jabez Rowle 
might mention me in writing to his brother. But I grew more 
reassured as it became evident that Mr. Ruddle had not 
written, while Mr. Jabez Rowle said one day, just in the middle 
of some corrections : 

" Ah, I’m very fond of Peter, so I never write to him.” 

Then, too, I found that Mr. Revitts never wrote to Mary with- 
out, in a half-bashful way, showing me the letter. 

Lookye here,” he would say, “ we said we’d help one another, 


108 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY OEACE. 


lad. Some o’ these days you’ll want to write such a letter as this 
here, and so you may as well see how it’s done. Then you can 
just shove your pen through where the spellin’ ain’t quite square, 
and I’ll write it out again. I don’t know as it’s quite right 
to let her get thinking as I’m such a tip-topper at spellin’, hut 
she came the same game with me over the writing, making me 
think as she’d improved wonderful, when it was you; so it’s six o’ 
one and half-a-dozen o’ t’other. What do you say ? ” 

I don’t think Mary meant to deceive you, Bill,” I said. " Poor 
girl, she had to work very hard, and her hands were not used to 
holding a pen. I don’t suppose she ever thought of saying who 
wrote for her. There’s nothing to he ashamed of in trying to 
improve your spelling.” 

No, there ain’t, is there, lad ? ” 

“ Nothing at all. Mr. Hallett says we go on learning all our 
lives.” 

Hah ! I suppose we do. YSHiat would you do then ? ” 

I should tell Mary I helped you.” 

“ So I will — so I will,” he said, in his quiet simple way ; for as 
sure as the subject Ma7y was in question, all William Hevitt’s 
sharp police-constable ways dropped off, and he was as simple and 
smiling as a child. 

“ Give my love to her, BiU,” I said. 

He looked heavily and steadily at me for a few moments, and 
then in a very stupid way he began : 

I say, youngster, do you think Mary is fond of you P ” 

“ I’m sure she is — very,” I said. 

He fidgeted in his chair, and then continued: 

And you like her ? ” 

“ Very, very, very much. She was horribly cross at first, hut 
towards the last nobody could have been kinder.” 

I say, how old are you ? ” 

Between thirteen and fourteen,” I said. 

Ah, to be sure ; of course, lad, so you are,” he said, brighten- 
ing up and shaking hands. “ Y es. I’ll give your love to her. I 
say, boy, it won’t be long first,” he continued, rubbing his hands. 

“ Won’t it P ” I said, easily divining what he meant. 

No, not long now, for we’ve been engaged a precious long 
while.” 


CHAPTER XX. 

THB WAYZEGOOSE. 

Long before the fallen type was sorted I had heard rumours of 
the annual holiday and dinner of the e'mploy6s of the firm ; and 


THE WAYZEGOOSE. 


109 


on a delicious autumn morning I found myself in a great covered 
van, one of three conveying the large party down to Epping 
Forest. 

According to old custom, the members of the firm did a great 
deal to encourage the affair, supplying a large proportion of the 
funds required, and presiding at the dinner at an inn in the forest. 

Boy-lilse, I was very eager to go, and looked forward to joining 
in a projected game at cricket; but, somehow, when we reached 
the inn, after a drive made noisy by a good deal of absurd mirth, 
the result of several calls at public-houses on the way to give the 
horses hay and water, the pleasure seemed to be taken a good deal 
out of the affair, and the presence of Mr. Grim stone did not tend 
to make me feel upon the highest pinnacle of enjoyment. 

Somehow or another the boys seemed to look upon me as a sort 
of butt, and, headed by Jem Smith, they had played several 
practical jokes upon me already, so that at last I was standing 
wistfully looking on instead of playing cricket, and wishing I was 
alone, when a handsome waggonette was driven by, and to my 
surprise I saw in it Mr. Ruddle, Mr. Lister, his partner, and the 
two young ladies whom I had met on my first day in Short Street. 

As I started forward and took off my cap. Miss Carr saw me, 
and smiled and nodded : and then as I stood gazing after the 
departing carriage, a change seemed to have come over the day, 
and I began to wonder whether I should see them again, and, if 
so, whether they would speak to me, when a hand was laid upon 
my shoulder, and turning round, there stood Mr. llallett. 

Well, my solitary little philosopher,” he said, in a quiet, half- 
cynical way, what are 5’'Ou doing ? Not playing with the boys 
at cricket, and not drinking more beer than is good for you, 
according to the immemorial custom of a British workman taking 
a holiday ? ” 

“No,” I said, “I was looking after that carriage.” 

“Carriage? Oh, that! Well, what was there in it to take 
your attention ? ” 

“ Mr. Ruddle and Mr. Lister were in it, with Miss Carr and her 
6181 / 01 * 

“ What, in that ? ” he said. “ Are you sure ? ” 

“Yes, sir, quite sure. Miss Carr nodded to me.” 

“ Nodded? to you, Grace ? ” 

“ Oh yes, Mr. Hallett, it was through Miss Carr that I was 
engaged ; ” and I told him how it happened.' 

“ And so you are not going to play cricket ? ” he said dreamily, 
as he .stood gazing wistfully in the direction taken by the wag- 
gonette. 

“ No, thank you,” I replied sadly. “I’d rather not.” 

“ Well, I’m going for a ramble in the forest. Dinner will not 
be ready for two hours. Will you come ? ” 


110 


THE STORY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


Oh yes, sir.” 

Come along then, Grace, and well throw away the work for 
one day, and enjoy the country.” 

I bad never seen him look so bright and pleasant before. The 
stern, cold, distant air was gone, and his eyes were bright and 
eager. He seemed to unbend, and it was delightful to hnd him 
take so much interest in me as he did. 

Well,” he exclaimed, as we turned right into the wood by the 
first narrow foot-path, ^‘and how are you getting on with 
the pie ? ” 

Very slowly, sir,” I said sadly. 

Never mind, my boy ; patience, and you will do it all; and it 
will not hurt you.” 

But it was so unjust, sir. It was Smith who upset it,” 

“ Ah I and he said it was you ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; and it was a lie.” 

I thought as much; a young rascal ! but never mind, Grace. 
I would rather be the lad who manfully bears an injustice like a 
hero, than be the big successful blackguard who escapes his punish- 
ment by a contemptible lie.” 

‘^So would I, sir,” I said, swallowing down something which 
seemed to rise in my throat as I gazed in his bright, intelligent face. 

Bah ! It was a pitiful bit of triumph for tlie young idiot ; but 
never mind, my lad : work at it and finish it like a man, and it 
will be a piece of self-denial that you may be proud of to the 
end of your days.” 

We walked on for some distance in silence, he evidently 
thoroughly enjoying the beauty of the forest as we rambled on, 
knee-deep in ferns and heather, and I feeling that the old days 
were coming back, such as I used to love when wandering with 
my father through one of our woods, botanizing or collecting bird 
and insect. Almost involuntarily as Mr. Hallett took off his soft 
felt hat to let the breeze blow on his broad white forehead, I 
began, as of old, to pick a specimen here and there, till, after 
being in a musing fit for some time, he suddenly noticed what I 
was doing, and became interested. 

‘‘ What have you got there ? ” he said, pointing to a plant I had 
just picked. 

“ Oh, that’s a twayblade,” I replied, ^^one of the orchis family.” 

Indeed,” he said, looking at me curiously, “and what is this?” 

“Oh, a very common plant — dog’s mercury.” 

“ i\jQd this, Grace ? ” he continued, pointing to another, with its 
bulbous roots in the water. 

“ Water hemlock, air.” 

“Why, Antony Grace, you are quite a young botanist,” he 
said, smiling and sho wing his white teeth, while I gazed up at 
I’iin wonderingly, he seemed so changed. 


THE WAYZEGOOSE. 


Ill 


** I only know a little that papa — 1 mean my father, taught me.” 

** He used to take you for walks, then, my boy ? ” 

" Oh, such delicious walks, sir,” 

“ And you leariied a good deal P Look ! What a great toad- 
stool ! Don’t handle it, my boy, some of these things are very 
poisonous.” 

“ This is not, sir,” I said eagerly ; this is Boletus edulis, and 
very good eating.” 

“ Indeed ; and pray what does Boletus edulis mean ? ” 

“The eatable boletus^ sir. There is a family of fungi called 
the holeti, sir, and you can easily tell them, because they are all 
full of pores, or little holes, underneath, while the ordinary 
agarics have gills like this.” 

1 picked up one with a brilliant scarlet top as I spoke, and 
showed him tlie white gills beneath. 

“ And has that a name P ” he said. 

“Oh yes; that is a very poisonous and rather rare specimen : 
it is liicssula e7netica" 

“ Why, Grace,” he said, laying his hand on my shoulder, “ you 
and I must come for country walks together. You must take 
me for a pupil. Good heavens!” he muttered, “how one does 
live to find out one’s ignorance.” 

His whole manner from that moment was changed towards me. 

^ He seemed to throw off his mask of cold reserve, and lauglied and 
chatted; ran up banks to get rare ferns, and climbed a tree to 
look at a late wood-pigeon’s nest, so that the time flew by till, on 
referring to his watch, he found that we should have enough to 
do to get back to the dinner. 

“ I would rather stay in the forest,” he said. 

“ So would I, sir,” I replied rather dolefully. 

“ But no,” he continued, “the firm are very kind, and we should 
be wanting in respect if we stayed away. Come along ; you sit 
beside me, and we’ll slip off afterwaids and have anotlier run.” 

W'e hurried back just in time for the dinner, but 1 did not get 
a place by Mr. Hallett; and as soon as this was over speech- 
making began. It did not interest me, for my eyes were fixed 
upon a kind of gallery above the heads of the people at the upper 
table, in -which I could see Miss Carr and her sister had taken 
their places, apparently to listen to the speeches made by Mr. 
Huddle and Mr. Lister in turn. 

They seemed, however, to pay little attention to them after the 
first, and as 1 sat watching them, and wishing Miss Carr could see 
me, to my disappointment T saw them rise to go, just ns, after a 
good deal of whispering between Mr. Grimstone, I\lr. .Jabez Rowle, 
and Mr. Hallett, the latter, evidently unwillingly, rose to propose 
the health of the firm. 

At the first sound of his voice I saw Miss Carr pause and stay 




112 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


her sister, and as he went on, she paid ttiore and more attention, 
leaning over the rail to catch every word, while he, quite uncon- 
scious of the presence of sucli listeners, warmed to liis task, and in 
well-chosen vigorous language, spoke in praise of the firm, and, at 
the same time, urged his fellow-workmen to give them in the 
future their best support as earnestly as they would promise it 
upon this present day. 

He grew eager and excited as he spoke, and carried his eloquent 
speech on to such a climax that he sat down amidst a perfect 
tempest of cheering, both Mr. Ruddle and Mr. Lister leaving their 
seats afterwards to go and quietly shake hands with him, Mr. 
Grimstone all the while apparently seeing in him a rival,, for he 
scowled ominously, and Mr. Jabez Rowle completely emptied his 
box of snuff. 

My eyes, though, were principally fixed upon the ladies in the 
little gallery, and I was near enough to see that Miss Carr’s lips 
were parted, and her eyes looked eager and strange as she leaiied 
forward more and more, till the speech was at an end. The next 
time I looked, she was gone. 

Soon after I felt some one pull ray arm, and starting round, 
there stood IMr. Hallett, and hurriedly following him out of the 
hot, noisy room, we made our way once more into the forest. 

As we rambled on, delighted with the delicious coolness and the 
sweet scents of the woodlands, Mr. Hallett asked me a few 
questions about myself, soon learning my little history, while my 
respect for him had increased as I found out more and more how 
different he was from the ordinary worlcmen at the office. He 
was evidently a scholar, and seemed to have a great depth of 
knowledge in mechanical contrivances. 

^‘AVe must know more of one another, Grace,” he said; “1 
am glad we have been together to-day. What do you do on 
Sundays ? ” 

I explained that when Mr. Revitts was off duty we went for a 
walk. 

And pray who is Mr. Revitts ? ” he said. 

I explained that he was a policeman, and had been very kind to 
me since I had lodged with him in town. 

I am quite alone in London, you see, Mr. Hallett,” I said in an 
old-fashioned way at which I now can smile. 

He nodded, and seemed thoughtful for a few minutes. 

“ Mine is not a very cheerful home, Grace,” he said at length; 
‘H3ut if you will come and spend a Sunday — say Sunday week — ■ 
with us, I shall be glad to see you. Will you come ? ” 

“ I should be so glad,” T cried, and then 1 stopped short. 

“ What is it ?” he said. 

“Mr. Revitts will be off duty that day, sir; and he would be so 
disappointed if I were not at home. He has been so very kind to me.* 


m THE FOEEST. 


1X3 


Mr. Ilallett looked amused. 

Do you mind, sir ?” 1 said. 

No, Grace. You are quite right,” he quietly said, ** Always 
be faithful to your friends. You shall come next Sunday instead,” 
he added, as we turned into a beautiful little glade that looked 
bright and golden with the setting sun. “ Never throw a trusted 

friend over for the sake of one you believe to be ” 

He stopped short, for we had come suddenly upon two ladies, 
one of whom was Miss Carr. 


Cn AFTER XXI, 

IN THE FOUEST. 

MissCare started slightly on seeing my companion, and it seemed 
to me that she coloured for the moment, but she recovered hei 
composure on the instant, responded to Mr. HalletFs salute with 
a quiet bend of the head, and turned at once to me, talking in a 
sweet grave way, as if there were no one else present, though Mr. 
Ilallett stood close by me, hat in hand. 

‘‘Antony,” she said, laying her hand upon my shoulder, “1 
am very glad to see you again. Mr. Ruddle tells me that you 
are striving very hard, and that you have already made a step 
upwards. Mind, though 1 do not see you, I always hear how you 
progress, and, now that you hare begun so well, I have no fear foi 
your futirre. Are you happy and comfortable where you are ? ” 

“ Oh yes, ma’am,” 1 said, flushing red with pride and pleasure, 
as I gazed in her face ; “ and — and I have made such good 
friends.” 

“ Indeed I ” she said quickly. " I hope you are careful.” 

“ Oh ves, ma’am ; Mr. Revitts is very good to me, and Mr. 
Hallett, here.” 

Miss Carr turned her face to him for the moment, and once 
more there was a slight flush upon her cheeks ; then she seemed 
very pale. 

“ I am' glad to hear it,” she said, in a firm, distinct tone ; and 
1 hope your friend Mr. Hallett will remember your unprotected 
position, and advise you for your good.” 

Mr. Hallett was about to speak, but she had turned from him, 
and now laid her other hand upon my shoulder. 

“ Good-bye, Antony,” she said ; “ you know where I live ; come 
to me if ever you should require help. And mind this, I shall 
expect you to fight bard and rise. It is no disgrace to be 8 
common workman” — she glanced hastily, and as if in apology 
towards Mi’. IlaEett, as she spoke — “ My dead father was but t 

8 


114 THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

workman, but he rose to a hig-her position in life, and I think 
those who fight the battle well and are self-made, are quite as 
worthy of honour and respect as those who are born to wealth. 
Good-bye.” 

I could not speak, but I stood there gazing in her bright 
animated face, and listened to the sweet grave voice, whose every 
word seemed to fix itself in my mind. I was only recalled from 
my dreamy state by those words “ good-bye,” and the sight of the 
soft white hand that she held out. 

It was from no sentimental feeling of politeness that I acted as 
I did, for I felt moved to my very soul, and the same feelings 
came over me that had animated me in the past days in my 
pleasant old home. I loved Miss Carr — loved her with the same 
sweet wholesome love that a boy feels towards a tender mother, 
and lu}^ eyes felt suffused, and things looked dim, as with quite a 
natural effort I took the hand extended to me, kissed it, and held 
it for a moment against my cheek. Then it seemed to glide from 
my hold, there was a faint rustle of silken garments over the 
heath and grass, and Mr, Hallett and I were alone. 

I turned to speak to him, to find that he was still standing, hat 
in hand, gazing down the path by which the sisters had gone ; 
then it seemed to me that he drew a long breath as he stood look- 
ing at me apparently, but evidently recalling that which was 
past. 

‘^Oh, Mr. Hallett!” I cried enthusiastically, and with all the 
impulsiveness of a boy ; " isn’t she beautiful ?” 

“ As beautiful as true, Grace,” he said softly, and his manner 
seemed reverent and strange. 

She was so kind to me — spoke so kindly for me when I first 
came to the office,” I cried. 

Yes, my boy,” he said in the same low, soft voice; "you are 
very fortunate — you have found a true friend.” 

“ And I will try,” I cried. " She shall find that I have remem- 
bered what she told me.” 

" Come and sit down here, my boy,” he said, throwing himself 
upon a patch of heath and fern. " Let’s forget the smell of oil 
and steam and printing-ink for a time. Come and tell me all 
about your meeting with Miss Carr.” 

I was eager to tell him, and I had a willing listener, and as I 
sat there at his feet I told him of the interview at the office, and 
all about how Mr. Lister seemed so attentive to Miss Carr; what 
he had said, and how he seemed to love her. In my ignorance I 
dwelt at length upon even Mr. Huddle’s words of congratulation, 
talking rapidly and well in my enthusiasm — blind and ignorant 
that I was — for I could not read then why the lines in Stephen 
Hallett’s face grew deeper and more marked, nor yet why his 
eyelids should droop down, and then his head, till it rested "upon 


IN THE FOREST, 116 

one band, while the other plucked slowly at the strands of grass 
and scraps of heath. 

Once or twice I thought he was asleep, but if I stopped bespoke 
to me softly, asking some questions till I had done, when he 
startled me again with inquiries about myself and my old life, 
gradually winning from me all I had to tell. 

The sun had set, and the soft evening shadows were descending 
as we still sat there drinking in the moist fresh air of the forest, 
till, as if rousing himself from a dream, Mr. flallett rose hastily, 
and I too sprang to my feet. 

“ Come, Grace,” he said, with an effort to be cheerful, “ we 
must get back to the inn, or we shall be left behind. One minute, 
though ; let us walk along here.” 

I looked at him wonderingly as he strode hastily to where we 
had met the ladies, and 1 saw that he had removed his hat as he 
stood gazing slowly around. 

It might have been from the heat, but T do not think so now ; 
and he was just turning away, when I saw him stoop hastily and 
snatch from among the ferns a grey kid glove. 

“ Why, that must be Miss Carr’s,” T said eagerly. 

“Yes,” he replied softly; “ it is Miss Carr’s.^’ 

He stood holding it pressed in his hand ; and his brow was knit, 
and he stood gazing straight before him, struggling with himself 
before saying, as he doubled the glove : 

“ You must take it back, my boy. You will see her again ; 
perhaps I never shall.” 

I looked at him curiously as I took the glove, for he seemed so 
strange, but the next moment his dreamy manner was cast a^ide, 
as he clapped me on the shoulder. 

“ Come, Grace,” he said ; “ no, I will not call you Grace,” he 
added, laughing; “it sounds as if you were a girl, and you 
are rather too girlish, my boy ; I will call you Antony in future.” 

“ Yes, do, please, Mr. Haliett,” 1 said ; though I flushed a little 
at being called girlish. 

“ Come along, then. Our pleasant day has nearly come to an end.” 

“ Yes,” I said with a sigh ; “ pleasant days do so soon come to 
an end.” 

“ To be sure they do,” he cried ; “ but never mind, my boy ; 
others will come.” 

“ Yes,” I sighed ; “and miserable ones, too, full of Grimstone 
and Jem Smith, and pie, and mistakes.” 

“Of course,” he cried; “bitters, all of them, to make life the 
sweeter. Why, Antony — no, Tony’s better — why, Tony, if you 
could be always revelling in good things, such a day as this would 
not have seemed so delightful as it has.” 

“ And it has been delightful ! ” I cried, as we walked on, my 
friend resting his hand almost affectionately upon my shoulder 


116 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Yes,” he said softly; ** a day to be marked with a white 
stone — a tombstone over the grave of one’s brightest hopes,” he 
added, very, very softly ; but 1 caught the import of his words, 
and I turned to him quite a troubled look, when there was a sound 
of cheering some distance away. “Come, Tony,” he said cheer- 
fullv. “ there are our men hurrahing. We must join them now.’' 

Do you know what time we were to start back, sir ? ” I said. 

“ Eight o’clock,” he replied, taking out an old-fashioned gold 
watch, and then starting. “ Why, Tony, my lad, it’s past nine. 
Come along, let’s run.” 

We started off, and ran at a steady trot till we reached the inn, 
to find that the cheering had been when the vans set out. 

“ Yes, they was a-cheerin’ away like fun,” said our informant, a 
rather beery-looking public-house hanger-on. “ What, are you 
two left behind ? ” 

“ Yes,” said Mr. Hallett, shortly. “How long have they been 
gone ? ” 

“ More’n quarter of ’n'^^ur,” said the man ; “ and I say, they just 
was on — all of ’em. The driver o’ the last one couldn’t hardly 
hold his reins.” 

“ What time did Messrs. Ruddle and Lister go ? ” 

“ Who ? ” said the man. 

“ The gentlemen with the waggonette.” 

“ W' hat, with them two gals? Oh! more’n ’n’our ago. They 
wasn’t on.” 

“ How can we get back to town ? ” 

“ Walk,” said the man ; “ ’less you like to take a fly." 

“It is very tiresome, Tony,” said Mr. Hallett. “Are you a 
good walker '? ” 

“ Pretty well,” I said. “ How far is it P ” 

“Twelve or thirteen miles. Shall we try it?” 

“Oh yes,” I said. “It’s a beautiful night, and we shall see 
plenty of moths.” 

“ Come along, then, my boy,” he cried ; and away we went. 

Our long rest since dinner had made me better able to manage 
the task; and I noticed that Mr Hallett did all he could to 
lighten the way by talking, and he could talk well. As, then, we 
trudged elong the wide, firm road, he told me a little about 
himself and his home; and so it was that I learned that he had an 
invalid mother and a sister, who were dependent upon him ; that 
his early life had been in the country, where his father had been 
a surgeon, and that on his father’s death he had been compelled to 
come to London. 

“ To seek your fortune, Mr. Hallett ? ” I asked. 

“Well, yes, if you like to call it so, Tony,” he said, laughing. 
“ Ah, my boy, let me give you advice that I am only too loth to 
take myself — don’t degenerate into a dreamer.” 


IN THE FOREST. 


117 


** A dreamer, Mr. Hallett ? ” 

** Yes, boy ; one whose mind is set on M^hat people call making 
a fortune — that miserable style of ent husiast, who ignores the pre- 
sent in his search for something that he may never find, and which, 
even if he does, he may never enjoy. Tony, my boy, don’t heed 
what people say about this being a miserable world and a vale of 
tears ; it is a very beautiful and a very glorious world with heights 
and mountains bright in the sunshine of truth. We all have 
to wander down into the valley sometimes, but there are other 
times when we are in the sunshine on the heights. When we are 
there, let’s take it and enjoy it, and not sit down and grumble, and 
strive to climb to another mountain, close by, that seems higher 
and brighter than the one we are on. Take what fate sends you, 
my dear boy, and take it pat iently. Use your strength to bear it, 
and — there, let’s come back out of the imaginary into the real — go 
on setting up your pied type, and enjoy the pleasure after of 
having won a victory, or, in the present case, stride out manfully. 
Every step takes us nearer to London ; and when we have got 
there, and have slept off our fatigue, we can laugh at our adven- 
ture. Why, we must be halfway there now. But how you limp ! ” 
I’m afraid it’s my boot rubs my foot, sir,” I said, wincing. 

^^Tut, tut!” he exclaimed. This won’t do. Sit down and 
have a rest, and let’s think, Tony.” 

‘^Oh, I can go on yet, sir,” I said hastily. 

No, no ; sit down, my boy, sit down,” he said ; and I sat down 
upon. a bank. can’t carry you, Tony,” he said kindly. “I 
could manage you for a couple of miles or so; I don’t think I 
could get you right up home. We are unlucky to-night, and — 
there is something turning up.” 

' “ Where, sir ? ” I said. 

" “On ahead, Tony. Yonder is a roadside inn, with a couple of 
hay-carts. Come along, my lad, and we’ll see if one of them 
cannot be turned into a chariot to convey us to London Town.” 

I limped on beside him to where the hay-carts were standing by 
a water-trough at the roadside, the horses tossing their nose-bags 
so as to get at the oats at the bottom, and the carters just coming 
out of the public-house. 

“ Can you give us a lift on to London ? ” said Mr. Hallett. 
“ This boy has turned lame.” 

“ W^hat’ll you stand ? ” said the man heavily. 

“ A couple of pints,” said Mr. Hallett. 

“All right; up you get,” said the man. “ You must lie atop o 
the hay. I only goes to Whitechapel, you know.” 

“ That will do,” said Mr. Hallett. And together we climbed 
.up, and lay down, twelve or fifteen feet above the road, on the 
top of the sweet-scented trusses of hay ; the carter cracked his 
whip, and away we went jolting over the road, with the stars 


118 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


above us, and my couch seeming delicious to my weary limbs, os 
the scent seemed to bring up my sleeping-place by the hay-rick, 
ivhen I ran away from Rowford and my slavery at Mr. iJlakeford’s 
house. 

“ That’s one of the peculiarities of the true-born Briton, Tony,” 
said Mr. Hallett, after a pause. 

*^What is, sii’.P” 

"The love and reverence for beer. If I had offered that man 
sixpence or a shilling to give us a ride, he would have laughed 
me to scorn. Two pints of beer, you see, carry us right to town, 
and another pint would have acted like a return ticket to bring us 
back.” 

" To bring us back ? ” I said in drowsy accents; and, trusting to 
my companion to save me from a fall, I dropped into a heavy 
dreamless sleep, from which I was aroused by Mr. Hallett, who 
shook my arm and told me that we were once more in town. 


CHAPTER XXII. 

WILIJAM BEVITTS IS ANQBY. 

Mr. Hallett saw me right to the door of my lodgings before he 
left me, shaking hands warmly as he said " Good-night,” and 
altered it to " Good-morning.” 

I was thoroughly awake now, and somewhat refreshed as I 
ascended the stairs very gently, having risen now to the honour 
of a latch-key. It was Revitts’ turn for day duty, and 1 was 
unwilling to disturb him, so 1 had slipped off my boots, and 
cautiously turning the handle of the door, I entered, to find, 
to my surprise, a light burning, and Mr. Revitts buttoned up 
in his uniform and with his heavy hat upon his head. 

" Oh, here you are, then,” he cried roughly. 

"What, not in bed ! ” I said. 

"In bed?. How was I going to bed? I was just orf to the 
station to send word round as you was missing, and to make 
inquiries where the vans went from.” 

" Oh, Mr. Revitts ! Oh, Bill, 1 am sorry I ” I cried. 

"Don’t you Bill me, young man,” he cried. "Now, lookye 
here. Was it an accident to the van as made you late ?” 

"No,” I said ; " it was ” 

" There ! ” he cried, bringing his fist down heavily upon the 
table. "I won’t hear another word. I won’t listen to you. 
Those vans was doo back at ten thirty — say Teven, and it’a 
now two forty-five.” 

" Yes, Bill, but ” 


WILLIAM REVITTS IS ANGRY. 


119 


"Don’t Bill me,” he cried; and, running to the comer of 
the room, he caught up a black silver-topped cane, with shabby 
silk tassels. “Look here,” be said ; “ for the last hour or two IVe 
been thinking whether, as your best friend, I oughtn’t to give you 
a good wilting down, only you’re such a man now that I can’t 
stoop to hit the feller as I’ve made my friend.” 

“ But will you listen to me. Bill ? ” I cried angrily. 

“No, I won’t,” he said, throwing down the cane. “You’ve 
been up to your larks, you have, and I teU you what it is, I won’t 
have larks.” 

“ 1 haven’t,” I cried. 

“You have, sir, so don’t deny it. What am I to say to 
my Mary when she comes up, if she finds you going wrong ? 
I won’t have larks, so there’s an end of it, d’ye hear.^^ There, you 
needn’t look sulky, and you won’t go and lodge somewhere else. 
You’ll stay here and I won’t have no larks. I know what it 
means ; I’ve seen boys begin with stopping out o’ nights, and 
I know what sort o’ chickens they turn out. Stopping out late o’ 
nights an’ larks means going to the bad; and you ain’t going 
to the bad if I know it.” 

“ I couldn’t help it. Bill ; I’ve been along with Mr. Hallett.” 

“ Then I’ll punch Mr. Ilallett’s head,” he cried in a rage, as he 
stamped up and dowm the room, till some one rapped at the ceil- 
ing of the floor below. “ No, I won’t. I’ll pay him a visit in full 
uniform with my bracelet on, that’s what I’ll do with him.” 

“ Don’t be so foolish, BUI,” I cried, as in imagination I saw' Mr. 
Revitts stalking along amongst the frames at the office, as if about 
to take Mr. Hallett into custody. 

“ Foolish ? ” he cried. “ And look here, once for all, don’t you 
Bill me. As for that Hallett, he’s a bad ’un, that’s what he 
is. and I’ll let him know— carrying on larks with a youngster 
like you.” 

“ Mr. Hallett’s a gentleman,” I said indignantly. 

“ Oh, is he ? ” said Revitts excitedly ; “ then I’d rather be a 
pore police constable. Why, I never so much as took you inside 
a public to have half-a-pint o’ beer, I was so particular over your 
morals ; and your precious gentleman takes you to dozens, and 
keeps you out till two forty-five. Why, you make the whole 
room smell o’ beer.” 

“ I don’t. Bill,” I cried ; “ it’s that hay. Look here, it’s sticking 
to my clothes.” 

“ Then, what ha’ yer been sleeping under haystacks for, when 
here was your owm bed waiting for you? That’s the way. That’s 
the first step to being a rogue and a vagabond. Do you know, 
young fellow, as I could have taken you and locked you up, and 
had you afore the magistrates next morning, if I’d found you 
lying unde'* hays' ’oks ? ” 


120 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


" Wbat a dear old stupid you are, Bill,” I cried, half angry, 
half amused ; for he had talked so fast aud been in such a rage, 
that I could not get a chance to explain. 

“Am I.^” he cried, just as if I had added fresh fuel to the 
flame. “ If I am — I’m honest, so now then. That’s more than 
your Mr. Hallett can say. But I haven’t done with him yet.” 

“ Why don’t you be quiet, Bill ? ” I said. 

“ Quiet, when you get out on larks 

“ You won't let me speak.” 

“ Let you speak I No, I won^t. Here have I been woiTied to 
death about you, thinking all the chaps had got on, aud that the 
van was upset, and all the time it was your games,” 

“ We went strolling about the forest, Bill,” I said, as I removed 
my stockings and bathed my sore feet, “ and had to walk ever so 
much of the way home, and that’s what made me so late.” 

He snatched up my boots from where I had set them, and found 
that they were covered with dust. 

“But you said you’d been sleeping iia the hay,” he said stub- 
bornly. 

“ Yes; on the top of a hay-cart, coming up to Whitechapel, 
and I went to sleep.’ 

Kevitts began rubbing his ear in a puzzled way ; and then, as 
if seized by a bright idea, he took out his note-book and pencil. 

“ Now look here,” he said, making believe to take down my 
words and shaking his pencil at me in a magisterial way. “Why 
should you have to walk nearly all the way home, because you 
went for a stroll in the woods with that there Hallett ? ” 

This last with a contemptuous emphasis on the name of my 
companion. 

“ Why, I told you. Bill. When we got back to the inn the last 
van had gone.” 

“There; now, you’re shuffling,” he said. “You never said a 
word about the van being gone.” 

“Didn’t I, Bill? Well, I meant to say so. Mr. Hallett 
thought it would be much nicer to go for a walk in the woods 
than to sit in that hot room where the men were drinking and 
smoking, so we did, only we stopped too long,” 

Revitts shut his pocket-book with a snap, scratched his head 
with the end of his pencil, wetted the point between his lips, and 
had another scratch ; then pushed the pencil into the loop at the 
side, replaced the book in his breast, and buttoned it up tight, as 
he stood staring hard at me. Then he coughed behind his hand, 
rubbed his ear again, unbuttoned his coat, buttoned it up tightly, 
cleared his throat again, and then said ; 

“ W'ell, it was circumstarntial evidence, cert’nly.” 

“ It’s too bad, Bill,” I said, in an injured tone ,• “yon had no 
business to de» bt me ” 


ME. HALLETT AT HOME. 


121 


*^More I hadn’t, old lad,” he replied in a deprecating way, 
** But you know, Ant’ny, 1 had been a-sittiug here wait-wait- 
waiting and thinking all sorts o’ things.” 

\Vhy didn’t you go to bed 

I’d been thinking, old lad, that being a holiday, you might be 
hungry, and look here.” 

He opened the little cupboard and took out a raised pork pie 
and a bottle of pale ale. 

“ I’d got the cloth laid and the knives and forks out ready, but 
I got in such a wax about one o’clock that I snatched ’em all off 
and cleared ’em away.” 

“ And why did you get in a wax. Bill ? ” I said. “ You ought 
to have known me better.” 

So I ought, old lad,” he said penitently; “but T got thinking 
you’d chucked me over, and was out on larks with that there 
Hallett; and it ain’t nice to be chucked over for a chap like that, 
specially when you seem to belong to me. “ You’ll shake hands, 
W'on’t you, Tony ? ” 

“ Of course I will.” 

“And I won’t doubt you another time; let’s have the pie, 
after all.” 

We did ; and in a dozen ways the good fellow strove to show 
me his sorrow for his past doubts, piclving me out the best bits of 
the pie, foaming up my glass with the ale, and when I expressed 
my fears of not being awake in time for the office, he promised to 
call me; and tlioiigh he never owned to it, I have good reason for 
believing that he sat up writing out corrections in an old dictation 
lesson, calling me in excellent time, and having the breakfast all 
ready upon the table. 


CHAPTER XXin. 

MU. HALLETT AT HOME. 

Punctual to the appointed time, I rang the topmost of four bells 
on the door-post of one of the old-fashioned red-brick houses in 
Great Ormond Street, and a few minutes after it was opened by 
Mr. Hallett, whose face lit up as he offered me his hand. 

“ That’s right, Antony ! ” he exclaimed ; “ now we’ll go up- 
stairs and see the ladies, and then you and I will have a walk till 
dinner-time.” 

I followed him up the well-worn, imcarpeted stairs to the 
second floor, where he introduced me to his mother, a stern, pale, 
careworn-looking woman in a widow’s cap, half sitting, half 
reclining in a large easy chair. 


122 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


" IIow do you do?” she said, wearily, as she gazed at me 
through her half-closed eyes, You are Stephen’s friend. I am 
glad to see you; but you are very young,” she added in an ill- 
used tone. 

“Not a very serious failing, mother dear,” said Mr. Hallett 
cheerfully. 

“ No,” said Mrs. Hallett, “ no. I am sorry we have not a 
better place to receive him in.” 

“Tut — tut, dear,” said Mr. Hallett. “Antony Grace comes to 
see us, not our rooms or our furniture.” - 

I had already glanced round the large, old-fashioned room^ 
which was shabbily furnished, hut scrupulously clean, while 
everything was in good taste, and I hastened to say something 
about how glad I was to come. 

“ Yes,” said Mrs. Hallett wearily; “it is very polite and nice of 
you to say so, but it is not the home I expected for my old age.” 

“ My mother is ’ 

“You always used to call me mammae Stephen,” said Mrs. 
Hallett, with the tears in her eyes. 

“ Did I love you any more tenderly then, dear P ” he said, 
bending over her and kissing her wrinkled forehead with reverent 
affection, and then placing his lips upon her hand. 

“ No, Stephen, no,” she cried, bursting into a fit of sobbing ; 
“ but — but we might cling to some of our old respectability, even 
if you will persist in being a workman and lowering our family 
by wearing aprons like a common man.” 

“ There, there, dear, don’t fret,” he said cheerfully. “ You are 
in pain this morning. I am going for a walk with Antony Grace, 
and we’ll bring you back a bunch of flowers.” 

“No, no, don’t — pray don’t, Stephen,” said Mrs. Hallett 
querulously ; “you cannot afford it, and it only puts me in mind of 
happier days, when we had our own garden, and I was slo fond of 
my conservatory. You remember the camellias ? ” 

“Yes, yes, dear,” he said, passing his arm round her; "and 
some day you shall have your conservatory again.” ' 

“ Never, Stephen — never, while you are so obstinate.” 

“ Come, come, dear,” he said, kissing her again ; “ let me put 
your pillow a little more easy, and we won’t talk of the past ; it 
cannot interest Antony Grace. Where has I^inny hidden herself ? ” 

“ I suppose she is seeing after the cooking,” said Mrs. Hallett 
querulously. “ We have no servants now, Mr. Grace.” 

“ No, Antony,” said Mr. Hallett, laughing ; and I could not 
help contrasting the man I saw before me — so bright, airy, and 
tender in his ways — with the stern, rather grim-looking workman 
of the office. “ No servants ; I clean my own boots and help with 
the cooking, too. It is inconvenient, for my dear mother here 
a great invalid.” 


MR. HALLE'PT AT HOME. 


123 


** Helpless for seventeen years, Mr. Grace,” s?iid the poor 
^oman, looking at me piteously. ‘'We used to have a carriage, 
but we have cone now. Stephen is very kind to me, only he will be 
K) thoughtless ; and he is so wanting in ambition, clever as he is.” 

"There, dear, we won’t talk about that now,” said Mr. Hallett. 
" Come Antony ; my sister will not show herself, so we’ll find 
her blooming in flour, or carving potato rings, or handling a trun- 
cheon bigger than that of your friend Mr. Revitts as she makes 
the paste. Oh, here she is ! ” 

A door opened as he spoke, and I quite started as a bright, 
pretty girl entered, and came forward smiling pleasantly to 
shake hands. She seemed to bring sunshine into the room, and, 
damped as I was by Mrs. Hallett’s reception and the prospect of 
a dull, cheerless day, the coming of Miss Hallett seemed quite to 
change the state of affairs. 

" I am very glad to see yon,” she said, showing her little whit-e 
teeth. " Stephen has so often talked about you, and said he 
would bring you home.” 

“ Ah, me, yes, home 1 ” sighed Mrs. Hallett, glancing round the 
shabby apartment. 

Not that it seemed shabby any longer to me, for Linny, in her 
tight, well-fitting, plain holland dress, white collar and cuff’s, and 
with her long golden-brown, naturally curling hair, seemed to me 
to radiate brightness all around. For she certainly was very 
pretty, and her large, well-shaded eyes seemed to flash with 
animation as she spoke. 

" Antony Grace and I are going for a walk, Linny, and we 
shall come back hungry as hunters. ' Don’t make any mistake in 
the cooking.” 

She nodded and laughed, and her fair curls glistened in the 
light, while Mrs. Hallett sighed again ; and it struck me that she 
was about to say something in disparagement of the dinner, but 
she did not speak. 

" Come along then, Antony,” said Mr. Hallett ; and, after kiss- 
ing the invalid, he led the way down stairs, and we strolled off 
towards Regent’s Park. 

As we left the house, the shadow seemed to come down again 
over Mr. Hallett’s face, and from that time I noticed that he 
seemed to lead a double life — one in which he was bright and 
merry, almost playful, before his mother and sister ; the other, 
a life of stern, fixed purpose, in which his soul was bent upon 
some pursuit. 

He shook off his gloom, though, directly, and we had a good 
walk, during which he strove hard to make himself a pleasant 
companion, chatted to me of myself, hoped that I made use of my 
spare time, and read or studied in some way, promising to help 
me with my Latin if " would go on. 


124 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“It wants an effort, Antony,” he said; “especially after a 
hard day’s work at tlie office.” 

“ Yes,” I said, with a sigh ; “ I do feel tired of reading when I 
get hack.” 

“Never mind,” he said; “make an effort and do something. 
It is only the first start. YouTl soon grow interested in what 
you are doing ; and recollect this, my boy, learning is a treasure 
that no one can take away.” 

“ Yes, my father used to say so, Mr. Ilallett,” I said thought- 
fully, as I glanced sidewise at my companion’s face as we lay on 
the turf close by the water. 

“ What an imitation of the country this is, Antony ! ” he said, 
with a sigh. “ I love the country. I could live there always.” 

“Yes, I don’t like London, ISIr. Hallett,” I said; “but — but 
do you study anything in your spare hours ? ” 

He turned round upon me sharply, and his eyes seemed to look 
me through and through. 

“ Did my mother say anything to you ? ” he exclaimed. “ Oh 
no ! of course not — you were not alone. Yes, Antony, I do study 
something — a great deal — in my spare hours.” 

“Oh yes, of course. I know you do, Mr. Hallett,” I cried. 
“ I’ve seen you take out your pocket-book and draw and make 
calculations.” 

He looked at me again in a curious, suspicious way that set me 
wondering, and then, jumping up : 

“ Come, Antony,” he cried, with a forced laugh, “ it is time we 
were off. Linny will be wanting to go to church, and we shall be 
punished if we are late for dinner.” 

He chatted merrily all the way back, and I had no opportunity 
of asking him what he studied. Dinner was waiting, and a very 
pleasant simple meal it was, only that Mrs. Hallett would sprinkle 
everything with tears. I noticed that really, as well as meta- 
phorically, she dropped a few into her glass of beer, a few more 
into the gravy, of which she had the best share, soaked her bread 
with, others, and still had a few left to drop into her portion of 
red-currant and raspbeny tart. Nothing was nice, poor woman — 
nothing was comfortable ; and while Linny took her complaints 
with a pettish indifference, Mr. Hallett left his place from time to 
time, to attend to her at her little table in front of her easy chair, 
waiting upon her with the tenderness of a woman, smoothing back 
her hair, and more than once kissing her on the forehead before 
resuming his place. 

“No, Stephen,” she said, several times; “I have no appetite- 
nothing tempts me now. ’ 

He bent over and whispered to her, evidently in a tender, 
endearing way, but her tears only flowed the faster, and she shook 
her hea I despondently. 


ME. HALLETT AT HOME. 


125 


“ Cheese, Stephen ? ” she said in her peevish way, towards the 
end of the repast. “ You know my digestion is such that it will 
not bear cheese. At least,” she said, “you would have known 
it if you had had ambition enough to follow your father’s 
profession.” 

“ Ah ! I ought to have known better, dear,” he said, smiling 
pleasantly ; “ but doctors starve in London, mother. There are 
too many as it is.” 

“Yes, of course, of course,” said the poor woman tearfully; 
** my advice is worthless, I suppose.” 

“No, no, dear, it is not,” said Mr. Hallett, getting up and laying 
his hand upon that of the invalid. “ Come, let me take your 
plate. We’ll have the things away directly, and I’ll read to you 
till tea-time, if Antony won’t mind.” 

“Is Linny going out this afternoon?” said Mrs. Hallett 
querulously. 

“ Yes, mamma, and 1 shall he late,” said Linny, colouring, 
apparently with vexation, as she glanced at me, making me feel 
guilty, and the cause of her disappointment. 

“ We won’t keep you, Linny,” exclaimed Hallett ; “go and get 
ready. Antony, you will not mind, will you ? My sister likes to 
go *^0 church of an afternoon ; it is nicer for her than the evening.” 

“ Oh no, I won’t mind,” I said eagerly. 

“ All right, then ; be off, Linny. Antony and I wiU soon clear 
away the pie — eh, Antony ? ” 

I laughed and coloured at this double entendre, which Mrs. 
Hallett did not comprehend, for as Linny with a grateful look 
hurried out of the room, the invalid exclaimed fretfully ; 

“ I wish you would say tart, Stephen, my son. If you will 
persist in w'orking as a mechanic, and wasting your time in fruitless 
schemes ” 

“ Hush, mother ! ” said Mr. Hallett, with an uneasy glance at me. 

“ Yes, ray sou ; but 1 cannot bear you to forget all our old genteel 
ways. We may be poor, but we can still be respectable.” 

Yes, yes ; of course, dear,” said Mr. Hallett nastily, as he saw 
that his mother was about to shed tears. “ Come, Amtony, let’s be 
waiters.” 

I jumped up to assist him, just as Linny, looking very rosy and 
pretty in her bonnet and jacket, hurried out of a side room, and 
kissing her mother, and nodding to us, hastened downstairs. 

“ Ah ! ” said Mrs. Hallett, with another sigh, “ we ought not to 
be reduced to that.” 

“ To what, dear ? ” said Mr. Hallett, as he busily removed the 
dinner things. 

“ Letting that young and innocent girl go about the streets 
alone without a protector, offering herself as a prey to every 
designing wretch who casts his eyes upon her fresh, fair face.” 


126 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ My dear mother,” said Mr. Hallett, laughing, London is not 
quite such a sink of iniquity as you suppose, and you have tutored 
Liimy too well for there to be any occasion for fear. There, 
come, lean back and rest till we have done, and then I will read 
you one of your favourites.” 

Mrs. Hallett allowed herself to be gently pressed back in her 
seat, and lay there still complaining that a son of hers should have 
to stoop, and also ask his visitor to stoop, to such a degrading toil. 

Oh, Antony doesn’t mind, dear,” he said cheerfully. We 
do worse things than this at the office---eh, Antony? ” 

That we do, Mr. Hallett,” 1 cried, laughing. 

Yes,” said Mrs. Hallett, ‘‘at the office. Ah, well, I suppose 
it is of no use to complain.” 

"^he complained all the same, at everything, while Mr. Hallett 
bore it with a most patient manner that set me wondering. Ho 
was never once irritable, but took every murmur in a quiet, re- 
signed way, evidently excusing it on the score of his mother’s 
sufferings. 

Then he got out a book to read to her, but it would not do. 
Then another and another one, supposed to be her favourite 
authors ; but nothing would do but Dodd’s “ Thoughts in Prison,” 
and the reading of this cheerful volume went on tHl Linny came 
back, as I noticed, looking hot and flushed, as if she had been 
hurrying ; and she glanced, as I thought, suspiciously at me, her 
brother not raising his eyes from his reading. 

Then followed tea, and a walk with Mr. Hallett, and after that 
supper, when he walked part of the way home with me. 

“ Good-night, Antony,” he said. “ I hope you have not found 
your visit too gloomy an tDue to care to come again.” 

“ Will you ask me again P ” I said eagerly. 

“ To be sure. My poor mother is a little fretful, as you saw ; 
but she has been an invalid now these seventeen years, and she 
misses some of the comforts of the past. Good-night, my boy.” 

“ Good-night, Mr. Hallett ; ” and w’e parted — he to walk slowly 
away, bent of head and serious, and I to begin thinking of his un- 
wearying patience and devotion to his invalid mother: after which 
I recalled a great deal about Linny Hallett, and how pretty and 
petulant she seemed, wondering at the same time that neither 
mother nor brother took any notice of her flushed and excited 
look as she came in from church. 

“ Hullo ! got back, then P ” said Mr. Revitts, rather grumpily, 
as I entered the room. “ Had a pleasant day ? ” 

“ Oh yes. Bill, very ! ” I exclaimed. 

"Oh yes! It’s all very fine, though, and it’ll be all Hallett 
soon. But you have got back in decent time. Well, I’m tired, 
and I’m off to bed.” 

An example I followed directly after. 


LINNYS SECKET. 


127 


CflAPTEll XXIV, 

unny’s secret. 

My visit to Great Ormond Street was the first of many. In a 
short time the office labours with Mr. Jabez Rowle were meiely 
the mechanical rounds of the day ; and, like Stephen llallett, I 
seemed to live only for the evening, when I took my Latin 
exercises and translations to him, he coining down fi-om the 
attic, where he worked at some project of his own, concerning 
which poor murmuring Mrs. Hallett and her daughter were 
forbidden to speak, and then returning, after making the cor- 
rections. 

1 felt a good deal of curiosity about that attic, but Mr. Hallett 
had told me to wait, and 1 waited patiently, having, youna: as I 
was, learned to school myself to some extent, and devoted myself 
to my studies, one thought being always before my mind, namely, 
that I had to pay Mr. Llakeford all my father’s debt, for that I 
meant to do. 

I had grown so much at home now at the Halletts’, that, finding 
the door open one evening, 1 walked straight up, knocked twice, 
and, receiving no answer, tried the door, which yielded to my 
touch, swung open, and I surprised Linny writing a letter, which, 
with a flaming face, she shuffled under the blotting-paper, and held 
up a warning finger, for Mrs. Hallett was fast asleep. 

« Where's Mr. Hallett ? ” I said. 

** In Bluebeard’s chamber,” cried Linny playfully ; " I’ll go and 
tell him you are here.” 

I nodded, thinking how pretty she looked with her flushed 
cheeks, and she went softly to the door, but only to come back 
quickly. 

“ Antony, dear,” she whispered, laying her hand on my shoulder, 
** you like me, don’t you P ” 

“ Of course I do,” I replied. 

Did you see what 1 was doing ? ” she continued, busily read' 
justing my neckerchief, and then looking me full in the face. 

Yes ; you were writing a letter.” 

She nodded. 

“ Don’t tell Stephen,” she whispered. 

“ I was not going to.” 

He would want to know who I was writing to, and ask me 
such a lot of questions. You won’t tell him, will you ? ” 

No,” I said, “ not unless he asks me, and then I must.” 

“ Oh, he won’t ask you,” she said merrily j “ no fear. Now I’ll 
go and tell him.” 

I sat down, wondering why she should want to keep things from 
her brother, and then watched Mrs. Hallett, and lastly began 


-128 


THE STORY OF ANTO^’Y GRACE. 


thinking about the room upstairs — Old Bluebeard’s chamber, as 
Linny playfully called it — and tried to puzzle out what Stephen 
Hallett was making. That it was something to improve his 
position I was sui-e, and I had often thought of what hard work it 
must be, with so little time at his disposal, and Mrs. Hallett so 
dead set against what she openly declared to be a folly, and 
miserable waste of money. 

My musings were brought to an end by the reappearance of 
Linny, who came down holding her pretty little white hand to 
me. 

“ There, sir,” she said, “ you may kiss my hand ; and mind, you 
and I have a secret between us, and you are not to tell.” 

I kissed her hand, and she nodded playfully. 

“ Now, sir, Bluebeard’s chamber is open to you, and you may go 
up.” 

“Go? Upstairs?” 

“ Yes, sir,” she said, stroking her pretty curls ; " the ogre said 
you were to go up.” 

“ Are you — sure ? ” I said. 

“ Sure ? Of course. There, go along, or you’ll wake mamma.” 

I went softly upstairs, with my heart beating with excitement, 
turning my head, though, as I closed the door, and seeing Linny 
drawing her letter hastily from under the blotting-paper. 

It was before the shabby door of a sloping-roofed back attic 
that I paused for a moment to knock, Stephen Hallett’s clear, 
calm voice uttering a loud “ Come in,’" and I entered to find him 
seated before a large old deal kitchen table, upon which were 
strewed various tools, pieces of iron and brass, old clock-wheels, 
and spindles. At one end was fitted a vice, and at the other end 
what seemed to be the model of some machine — or rather, a long, 
flat set of clock-works, upon which Hallett was evidently engaged. 

“ Well, Antony,” he said, looking up at me in a weary, disap- 
pointed way ; “ glad to see you, my boy.” 

“ Why, you are busy,” I exclaimed, looking with all a boy’s 
curiosity at the model, or whatever it was before me. 

“ Y'es,” he said, “ I generally am. W^ell,” he added, after a 
pause, as he seemed to derive rest and amusement from my 
curiosity, “ what do you think of my sweetheai-t ? ” 

“ Your sweetheart ? ” 

“ Yes, my sweetheart, of which poor mother is so jealous. There 
sne 13.’ 

“ 1 — I don’t understand you,” I said. 

“ Well, the object of my worship — the thing on which I lavish 
so much time, thought, and money.” 

“ Is — is that it ? ” I said. 

“ That’s it,” he replied, enj3ying my puzzled looks. “What do 
you think of it ? ” 


LINNY’S SECEET. 


129 


T was filfiut for a few moments, gazing intently at the piece of 
mechanism before I said: 

“ J don’t know.” 

Look here, Antony,” he said, rising and sweeping away some 
files and pieces of brass before seating himself upon the edge of 
the table : “ do you know why we are friends ? ” 

No, but you hare been very kind to me.” 

Have I ? ” he said. “ Well, 1 have enjoyed it if I have. 
Antony, you are a gentleman’s son.” 

I nodded. 

** And you know the meaning of the word honour P ” 

" I hope so.” 

“ You do, Antony ; and it has given me great pleasure to find 
that, without assuming any fine airs, you have settled down 
steadily to your work amongst rough boys and ignorant prejudiced 
men without losing any of the teachings of your early life.” 

I looked at him, wondering what he wms about to say. 

Now’’ look here, Antony, my boy,” he continued; “ I am going 
to put implicit faith in your honour, merely warning you that if 
you talk about what you have seen here you may do me a very 
serious injury. You understand ? ” 

Oh yes, Mr. Hallett,” I Cried ; “ you may depend upon me.” 

“I do, Antony,” he said ; “so let’s have no more of that formal 
* Mr.’ Let it be plain ‘ yes ’ and ^no ; ’ and now, mind this, I am 
going to open out before you my secret. Henceforth it will be our 
secret. Is it to be so P ” 

“ Yes — oh yes ! ” I exclaimed, flushing with pride that a man to 
whom I had looked up should have so much confidence in me. 

“ That’s settled, then,” he said, shaking hands with me. “ And 
now, Antony, once more, what do you think of my model ? ” 

I had a good look at tlie contrivance as it stood upon the t^le, 
while Hallett watched me curiously, and with no little interest. 

** It’s a puzzle,” I said at last. 

“ Do you give it up ? ” 

“No; not yet,” I said, leaning my elbows on the table. 
“ Wheels, a brass table, a roller. Why, it looks something like a 
mangle.” 

I looked at him, and he nodded. 

“ But you wouldn’t try to make a mangle,” I said. “ It might 
do to grind things in. May I move it ? ” 

“ No ; it is out of gear. Well, do you give it up ? ” 

He rose as he spoke, and opened the attic window to let in the 
pleasant, cool night air, and then leaned against the sloping 
ceiling gazing back at me. 

“ I know what it would do for,” I said eagerly, as the idea came 
to me like a flash. 


130 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Why, it is — it is,” I cried, clapping my hands, as he leaned 
towards me ; “ it’s a printing machine.” 

“ You’re right, Antony,” he said ; “ quite right. It is the model 
of a printing machine.” 

“ Yes,” I said, with all a boy’s excitement ; and it’s to do quickly 
what the men do now so slowly in the presses, sheet by^ sheet.” 

‘‘ Yes, and in the present machines,” he said. ^^Have you 
noticed how the machines work ? ” 

“ Oh, yes ! ” 1 said ; often. The type runs backwards and 
forwards, and the paper is laid on by boys and is drawn round 
the big roller and comes out printed.” 

‘‘ Exactly,” he said. Well, Antony, you have seen the men 
working at the presses ? ” 

» Yes.” 

“ It is hard work, and they print about two hundred or two 
hundred and fifty sheets an hour, do they not ? ” 

Yes; I believe so.” 

** And the great clumsy machines print six or seven hundred an 
hour. Some a thousand.” 

“ And will your machine do more ? ” T asked. 

“ Antony,” he cried, catching my arm in his — and his face lit up 
as we stood by that attic window — ‘‘if my machine succeeds it 
will be the greatest invention of the age. Look, boy ; do you see 
what I mean to do ? ” 

“ N — no,” I said ; “ not yet.” 

“ No ; of course not,” he cried. “ It has been the work of years 
to think it out, and you cannot grasp it yet. It has grown month 
by month, my boy, till it has assumed so great a magnitude 
that I shrink at times, half crushed by my own offspring. There 
seems to be too much — that I attempt to climb too high-^-and 
when I give up almost in despair it lures me on — beckons rae in 
my dreams, and points to the success that might be achieved.” 

I looked at him wonderingly ; he seemed to be so transformed. 

“ I began with quite a small idea, Antony,” he continued. “ I 
will show you. My idea was this. You see now, my boy, that 
with the present machine the type is laid on a table, and it ^oes 
backwards and forwards under a great iron cylinder or roller, 
grinding continually, and being worn out.” 

“Yes, I know ; "the type gets thick and blurred in its fine up« 
strokes.” 

“ Exactly,” he said, smiling. “ Well, Antony, I tried to im •»nt 
a simple process of making a mould or seal, when the type vas 
ready, and then ” 

“ Making a solid block of fresh type in the big mould I 
know,” I cried. 

“ Right, my boy, right,” he cried ; “ and I have done it 1 ” 

“ But does it want a machine like that ? ” 


LINNY’S SECEET. 


131 


“Oh no,” be replied: “that grew out of the idea. I was not 
satisfied then with my solid block of type, which might be used 
and then melted down again. Tt struck me, Antony, that it 
would be better if I made that solid block curved, so as to fit on a 
big cylinder, and let it go round instead of the paper. I could then 
print twice as ma iy.” 

“ Ye — es,” I said, “ but I hardly see it.” 

“ I will show you presently, my boy,” he replied. “ Well, I 
worked at that idea till I felt satisfied that I could carry it out, 
when a greater idea came.” 

He paused and wiped his forehead, gazing now, though, out at 
the starry night, and speaking in a low earnest voice. 

It seemed to me then, Antony, that I ought to do away with 
the simple, clumsy plan of making men or boys supply or lay-on 
paper, sheet by sheet, as the machine was at work.” 

“ What could you do ? ” I said. 

“Ah, that was the question. I was thinking it over, when 
going through St. Paul’s Churchyard I saw in one of the draper’s 
shops a basket of rolls of ribbon, and the thing was done.” 

“ How ? ” I asked. 

“ By having the paper in a long roll, a thousand yards upon a 
reel, to be cut off sheet by sheet as it is printed between the 
cylinders.” 

“ But could you get paper made so long ? ” 

“ To be sure,” he said ; “ the paper-mills make it in long strips 
that are cut up in sheets as they are finished. In my machine 
they would be cut up only when printed. Now, what do you say ? ” 

“ It’s like trying to read Greek the first time, Mr. Hallett,’’ I 
said. “ My head feels all in a muddle.” 

“Out of which the light will come in time, my boy. But 
suppose I could make such a machine, Antony, what would you 
say then ? ” 

“ It would be ^and ! ” I exclaimed. 

“ It would make a revolution in printing,” he cried enthusias* 
tically. “ Well, will you help me, Antony ? ” he said, with a 
smile. 

“ Help you I May I ? ” 

**Of course. I shall be glad ; only, remember, it is our secret.’- 

“You may trust me,’’ I said. “ But it must be patented.” 

“ To be sure. All in good time.” 

“ It will make your fortune.’ 

“ I hope so,” he said dreamily. ** For others’ sake more tha 
mine.” 

“ Yes,” I cried ; “ and then you could have a nice place and a 
carriage for Mrs. Hallett, and it would make her so much happier 

“ Yes,” he said, with a sigh. 

“ A id you could be a gentleman again.” 


132 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


He started, and a curious look came over his face ; but it 
passed away directly, aud I saw him shake his head before turn- 
ing to me with a smile. 

Antony,” he said quietly, suppose we build the machine, the 
castles in the air will build themselves. I tell you what ; you 
shall work sometimes and help me to plan ; but, as a rule, while I 
file and grind you shall read some Latin or German author, and 
you and I can improve ourselves as we go.” 

Agreed ! ” I cried, and then the rest of the night was spent — 
a very short night, by the way — in examining the various parts 
of the little model, Hallett seeming to give himself fresh ideas for 
improvements as he explained the reason for each wheel and 
spindle, and told me of the difficulties he had to contend with for 
want of proper tools and the engineer’s skill. 

“ I want a lathe, Antony,” he said ; and a good lathe costs 
many pounds, so I have to botch and patch, and buy clock-wheels 
and file them down. It takes me a whole evening sometimes 
wandering about Clerkenwell or the New Cut hunting for what I 
want.” 

“ But I can often help you in that way,” I said, “ and I will.” 

We went down soon after to a late supper, Hallett jealously 
locking up his attic before we descended. Mrs. Hallett had gone 
to bed and Linny was reading, and jumped up as if startled at our 
entrance. 

Hallett spoke to her as we sat down to supper, and I noticed 
that he seemed to be cold and stern towards her, while Linny was 
excited and pettish, seeming to resent her brother’s ways, and 
talked to me in a light, pleasant, bantering manner about Blue- 
beard’s secret chamber. 

I noticed, too, that she always avoided her brother’s eye, and 
when we parted that night Hallett seemed a good deal troubled, 
though he did not tell me why. 


CHAPTER XXV. 

SBVEN-AND-A-HALP AND A BONUS. 

It was the common talk at the office that Mr. Lister was going to 
be married soon to the rich IMiss Carr ; and one day, when I was 
busily reading to Mr. Jabez Rowle — who, snuff-box before him, 
kept drawing in his breath, hissing viciously, and sometimes 
smacking his lips as he dug his pen into some blunder in the slips 
before him — Mr. Grimstone came bustling in, with his spectacles 
shining as much as his bald head, his scanty hair standing straight 
up, and, what was very rarely the case, a smile upon his face. 


SEVEN-AND-A-IIALF AND A BONUS. 


m 

“ Well, Rowle,” he said, rubbing his hands, “ how is it this 
morning r ” 

“ Foul — foul — foul,” said Mr. Jabez, with a dab at a stop he 
had missed before. Those fellows of yours make more literals 
every day.” 

“I’m always telling them of it, Howie, always,” said Mr. 
Grimstone, nodding his head sharply. “How does this boy get 

“Fairly — fairly,” said Mr. Rowle, screwing himself round upon 
his stool, and gazing full in the overseers face. “Now, then, 
Grimstone, what is it ? — what’s on the cards ? ” 

“ Oh, nothing — nothing. I only looked in. Give me a pinch ! ” 

Mr. Rowle handed his little brown box, and Mr. Grimstone re- 
freshed himself with a pinch before handing back the snuff to Mr. 
Rowle, who also took a pinch loudly, and "with a defiant flourish, 
while I took up a slip and a pen, and began to practise reading 
and correcting, a thing Mr. Rowde always encouraged. 

Grimstone had evidently come in for a gossip, business being 
rather slack, following a good deal of night-work and the finish of 
an important order ; and after another pinch and an allusion to 
the political topic of the day, they seemed to forget my presence 
and went on talking. 

“ When’s the happy day to be ? ” said Mr. Grimstone, 

** What, Lister’s P Oh, I don’t know : soon, I suppose. Seen 
her P ” 

“ Yes, twice,” said Mr. Grimstone, giving his lips a smack ; 

beautiful ! ” 

“ So I hear,” said Mr. Jabez Rowle ; “ plenty of money too, I 
suppose.” 

“ £50,000, and more to come. I never had such luck.” 

“ I never wanted it,” said Mr. Jabez Rowle with a growl. “ I 
don’t know why a ma.! shuuld want to tie himself up to a woman.” 

“Not with £50,000 and more to come, eh?” said Mr. Grim- 
stone waggishly. 

“ Might have tempted me twenty years ago,” growled Mr. 
Jabez ; “ it wouldn’t now.” 

S’pose not. You’re too warm, Rowle — much too warm. I 
say, though,” he continued, lowering his voice, but quite ignoring 
me, “ is a certain person safe ? ” 

“ A certain person P ” 

“Yes, you know. Suppose, for instance, he quietly asked you 
to let him have £500 for a few months at seven-and-a-half and a 
bonus, would you, always considering that he soon touches £50,000 
and more to come, wmuld you let him have it P ” 

Mr. Jabez took a pinch of snuff furiously, shut the box with a 
loud snap, and, evidently completely thrown of his guard, ex- 
claimed : 


131 


THE STOHY OE ANTONY GKACE. 


Hang" him for a fool I Curse me if ever I do so again.” 

Wliat do you mean ? ” said Mr. Grimstoue, rulHing up. " Do 
you mean to say I’m a fool ? ” 

No, no : he is, to go and blab.” 

«Blab?” 

Yes, to let it on<- to you.” 

“ I say ! What do you mean ? ” said Mr. Grirastone again. 

Mean ? Why, you as good as said he told you I liad let him 
have £500 at seven-and-a-balf and a bonus. Lent on the strength 
of his going to marry a woman with £50,000 and more to 
come.” 

« I didn’t.” 

"You did.” 

" Whew ! ” whistled Mr. Grirastone, snatching the snuff-box 
out of Mr. Jabez Howie’s hand, taking a vigorous pinch, and 
scattering so much of the fine brown dust in the air that I should 
have had a violent tit of sneezing if I had not become hardened 
to its effects. 

The two stared at one another for a minute, and Mr. Jabez now 
snatched the box back and took a hearty pinch, some of which 
went on to his shirt-front and some upon iiis sleeve. 

" Why, you don’t mean to say that he has borrowed £500 of 
f^ou ? ” said Mr. Grirastone, in a whisper. 

" But I do mean to say it,” replied Mr. Jabez. " How came he 
to tell you ? I never told a soul.” 

" He didn’t tell me,” said Mr. Grirastone thoughtfully, 

"Then who did?” 

"No one.” 

" Then how came you to know ? ” said Mr. Jabez, passing his 
box. " Why, you don't mean to say he has been to you for five 
hundred ? ” 

Mr. Grirastone nodded. 

" And offered you seven-and-a-half, and a bonus of thirty 
pounds ? ” 

Mr. Grirastone nodded again, and this time it was Mr. Jabez 
Howie’s turn to whistle. 

" He wanted it done quietly, and 1, after a bit, agreed to do it. 
But though we ain’t friends over business matters, Jabez Howie, 
I know you to be a man of strong common-sense and integrity, and 
I thought you would give me a good bit of advice. But this seems 
to alter the case. Would you lend it ?” 

" Humph I Two five hundreds are not much out of fifty thou- 
sand,” said Mr. Jabez ; “ but what does he want the money for P 
’Tain’t for the business.” 

" No,” said Mr. Grirastone, " because he said he didn’t want 
Mr. Ruddle to know. I say, what would you do ? I shouldn’t 
like to offend Lister.” 


SEVEN.AND-A-HALF AND A BONUS. 


135 


** Do ? Well, I’ve lent the money,” said Mr. Jabez, taking a 
savage pinch. 

And would you do the same if you were me ? ” replied Mr. 
Grimstone. “ It’s a lot of money ; years of savings, you know, 
and ” 

He made some kind of gesticulation, and I faney he pointed 
witli his thumb over his shoulder at me. 

‘‘ Look here, Grace,” said Mr. Rowle, go downstairs and ask 
Mr. Huddle to send me up Mr. Hendry’s lei ter about his book.” 

I got down off my stool, and left them together in the glass- 
case, going straight down to the office, where, in place of Mr. 
Huddle, 1 found Mr. Lister, and told him my business. 

“ I don’t know where it is,” he replied. ‘‘ Leave it till Mr. 
Ruddle comes in. But look here, Grace, I wanted you. Miss 
Carr was asking how you got on. Take this note there — you 
know where she lives — and give it to her herself. But before 
you go up there take this note to Norfolk Street, Strand. No 
answer.” 

He took four written slips of stamped blue paper from his 
pocket, and I saw him write across them, blot them hastily, and 
refold and place them in a letter, which he carefully sealea. After 
which, I noticed that he tore off and destroyed the piece of blot- 
ting-paper that he had used. I thought no more of it then, but 
it came up in connection with matters that afterwards occurred. 

I hurried upstairs, and told Mr. Jabez Howie that Mr. Lister 
wanted me to go out, Mr. Grimstone being still in close conference 
with him in the glass case. 

“ Where are you going, boy ? ” said the latter. 

“ To Miss Carr’s with a note, sir,” I said ; and the two old meF 
exchanged glances of intelligence. 

All right, Grace,” said Mr. Jabez, nodding ; “ we’re not busy. 
You can go.” 

I hurried away, thinking no more of them or their conversa- 
tion ; but I was obliged to go into the composing-room below, to 
hurry up to Mr. Hallett’s frame, where, stern-looking and half- 
repellent, he was rapidly setting a piece of manuscript. 

“ I’m going to Miss Carr’s,” i whispered, while my face glowed 
with pleasure. 

Indeed ! ” he said, starting ; and my bright face might have 
been reflected in his, such a change passed over his speaking 
countenance. 

“ I’ve to take a note from Mr. Lister and to wait for an 
answer,” I said ; and 1 felt startled at the ra^id change as he 
heard these last words. “ Are you ill I cried anxiously. 

“No — no,” he said hastily, and his voice sounded hard and 
harsh. “ Go away now, I am very much pressed for time.” 

I left him, wondering, for I could not read him then, and 


136 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


bounding down the stairs, I was soon in Fleet Street, and soon 
after in Norfolk Street, Strand. 

I quickly found the number and the door, with a large brass 
plate thereon bearing t he name “ Brandsheim,” and in small letters 
in the corner “ Ground Floor.” 

A boy clerk answered my knock, and I was told to sit down in 
an outer office while the clerk went in with the note and to see if 
Mr. Brandsheim was at home. 

Mr. Brandsheim was at home, and I was ushered into his pre- 
sence, to find him a dark, yellow-looking man with a wrinkled face 
and very keen eyes. He quite startled me for the moment, for, 
though not in personal appearance in the slightest degree re- 
sembling Mr. Blakeford, there was a something about him that 
suggested that worthy and his ways. 

lie was dressed in the first style of fashion, a little exaggerated. 
He might have been a slave of the great Plutus himself, for round 
his neck and lashing his chest was a thick gold chain ; diamond 
rings were on the fingers of each hand ; a great opal and diamond 
pin was in his black satin stock ; at his wrists were jewelled sleeve- 
links that glistened and sparkled when he moved. There was 
nothing sordid about him, for be sat in an easy-chair at a polished 
secretary ; there was a Turkey carpet beneath his feet, and the 
furniture of the room was massive and good ; but, all the same, 
I had no sooner entered the place than I began to think of Mr. 
Blakeford and Mr. Wooster, and I involuntarily wondered whether 
this man could be in any way connected with my late employer, 
and whether I had unconsciously walked into a trap. 

As my eyes wandered about the room in search of tin boxes 
containing different people’s affairs, of dusty parchments and sale 
bills, I felt better; for they were all absent. In their place were 
large oil pictures against the walls, hung, and leaning back, rest- 
ing on the floor. On a sideboard was a row of little stoppered 
bottles with labels hanging from their necks in a jaunty fashion, 
and in the bottles were richly tinted liquids — topaz, ruby, purple, 
and gold. They might have been medicines, but they looked like 
wines, and I felt sure they were, as I saw piled upon the floor 
some dozens of cigar-boxes. 

Mr. Brandsheim might have been a picture dealer, a wine mer- 
chant, or an importer of cigars, for m those days I had yet to 
learn that he was a bill-discounter who contrived that his clients 
should have so much in cash for an acceptance, and the rest in old 
masters, Whitechapel Havanas, and Hambro-Spanish wines. 

Mr. Brandslieim’s words somewhat reassured me, as he nodded 
pleasantly to me and smiled. 

“ Sit down, my man,” he said ; sit down, and I’ll soon be ready 
for you. Let me see —let me see.” 

He busied himself behind his secretary, rustling papers and 


SEVEN-iLND-A-HALF AND A BONUS. 


137 


making' notes, and now and then looking at me and tapping his 
teeth with a heavy gold pencil-case, while I furtively watched 
him and wondered how he managed to make his jet black hair so 
shiny, and why it was he spoke as if he had been poking cotton- 
wool up his nose, till it suddenly occurred to me that he must be 
a German. 

“ Ah I ” he said, at last ; let me see — let me see — ^let me see — 
see — see. Mr. Lister quite well ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; quite well, thank you.” 

** That’s right. Let me see — let me — how’s business ? ” 

“ Oh ! we’ve been very busy, sir. The men have often had to 
stop up all night to get things finished.” 

“ Have they really, though ? ” he said, nodding and smiling ; 
“ and did you stay up, too ? ” 

No, sir ; I read for Mr. Jabez Rowle, and he said he wouldn’t 
sit up all night and upset himself for anybody.” 

Mr. Jabez Rowle is quite right, my lad.” 

“ He said, sir, his work was so particular that after he had been 
correcting for twelve hours his eyes and mind were exhausted, 
and he could not do his work properly.” 

“Mr. Jabez Rowle is a man of business, my lad, evidently. 
And Mr. Lister, is he pretty busy ? ” 

“ I think he comes to the office every day.” 

“ Have a glass of wine, my lad,” he said, getting up and taking 
a decanter, glass, and a dish of biscuits from a cellaret. “ Nor 
Good sherry won’t hurt you. Take some biscuits, then.” 

I took some of the sweet biscuits, and Mr. Brandsheim nodded 
approval. 

“ I won’t keep you long,” he said ; “ but I must compare these 
papers. You are not going anywhere else, I suppose ? ” 

“ Yes, sir ; 1 am going up to Westmouth Street, Cavendish 
Square.” 

“ Indeed ! Hah 1 that’s a good walk for you ; or, no, I suppose 
Mr. Lister told you to take a cab ? ” 

“ No, sir,” I said colouring ; “ I am going to wall?.” 

“ Oh, absurd ! Too far. Lawrence,” he cried, after touching a 
bell, and the boy clerk appeared, “ have a cab to the door in ten 
minutes.” 

“ Yes, sir.” 

“ That will pay for the cab, my lad,” continued Mr. Brandsheim, 
slipping a couple of shillings into my hand. “ I must keep you 
waiting a little while. Let me see — let me see — ^you didn’t go to 
the races, I suppose ? ” 

“ Oh no, sir.” 

“ Mr. Ruddle and Mr. Lister did, eh ? ” 

“Mr. Lister did, sir, I believe. Mr. Ruddle never goes, I 
think.” 


138 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ Doesn’t he, though ? How strange I I always go. Let me 

see — five hundred and sixty-six is — is So Mr. Lister’s going 

to be married, eh P ” 

Yes, sir, I believe so.” 

“ That’s right. Everybody should marry when the time comes. 
You will some day. I hope the lady’s young and rich.” 

She’s beautiful, sir,” I said, with animation, feeling sorry, 
though, the next moment, for I did not lilce the idea of this man 
being so interested in her. 

“ Is she, though P ” he said insidiously. “ But you’ve not seen 
her.” 

Oh yes, sir, more than once.” 

Have you, though P Well, you are favoured. Let me see,’' 
he continued, consulting a little thick book which he took from a 
drawer. Seven hundred and fifty and two hundred and — er— 
er — oh, to be sure, yes ; I think I lieard who it was to be. Beauti- 
ful Miss Wilson, the doctor’s daughter. Let’s see, she’s very poor, 
though.” 

I did not want to say more, but he seemed to lead me on, and 
get answers from me in an insidious way that I could not combat ; 
and in spite of myself I said : 

‘‘No, sir, it is Miss Carr ; and she is very rich.” 

“ You don’t say so ! ” he exclaimed, staring at me in surprise. 
“ You don’t mean the Carrs of Westmouth Street ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“ Well, I am surprised,” he exclaimed. “ Lister’s a lucky dog. 
Why, 1 see, you dog ! ” he said, in a bantering way, “ you carry 
the love-letters backwards and forwards.” 

“ Oh no, sir, I ” 

“ Hush, hush, hush I Not a word. I won’t listen to you. 
Don’t betray your master’s secrets, my lad. Y’ou’re a confidential 
messenger, and must clap a seal upon your lips.” 

“ But, sir, I ” 

“ No, no. How much ? ” he said, with mock severity. “ Don’t 
speak, don’t interrupt me ; I’m reckoning up. Let me see — let 
me see — ha ! that’s it exactly. There we are ! ” he continued, 
fastening down a note and handing it to me. “ Run along, my 
young Mercury, and if I were you I should make cabby drive me 
to Oxford Street for a shilling, and save the other. That’s the 
way to grow rich. OH you go. Take care of this.” 

He thrust a letter into my hands, and almost pushed me out of 
the room, so that I had not time to speak ; and before I had quite 
recovered from my confusion, I was in the cab, and heard the boy 
clerk say ; 

“ Put him down at Oxford Circus.” 

Then the wheels began to rattle, and the door to jangle, and I 
S'-t feeling angry with myself for saying so much about Mr, 


SEVEN-AND-A-HALF AND A BONUS. 


139 


Lister and Miss Carr, as T recalled William Revitts’ advice, often 
given, to “ let other people talk while you make notes.” 

The thought of where I was going soon drove my interview 
with Mr. Brandsheira out of my head, and getting out of the cab 
at the Circus, I made the best of my way to the great imposing 
house in Westmont h Street, rang, and asked to see Miss Carr. 

I'lie man-servant looked at me rather dubiously, and asked my 
name. Then, bidding mo sit down in the great sombre-looking 
hall, he went up the heavy staircase, and came back to bid me 
follow him. 

I noticed as T went upstairs that the place was heavily but 
handsomely furnished. There were pictures on the wails of stair- 
case and landing, and the stone steps were covered with a rich 
thick carpet. The wealthy look of the place, however, did not 
seem to abash me, for the atmosphere of refinement in which I 
found myself recalled old days ; and the thoughts of the past 
seemed strengthened, as I was ushered into a prettily furnished 
little drawing-room, all bright with flowers, water-colour draw- 
ings, and boolcs, from a table strewn with which latter Miss Carr 
arose to welcome me. 

And again the feeling was strengthened at her first words : 

“Ah, Antony I ” 

For the printing-office, Mr. Revdtts’ shabby room, PJallett’s 
attic, my own downfall, were forgotten, and, bright and eager, I 
half ran to meet her, and caught her extended hand. 

Her sad face brightened as she saw the eager pleasure in my 
eyes, and retaining my hand, she led me to a couch and seated 
herself by ray side. 

“ Then you had not forgotten me ? ” she said. 

“ Forgotten you ! ” I cried reproachfully, “ 1 have been so long- 
ing to see you again.” 

“ Then why did you not come ? ” 

“ Come ! ” I said, with the recollection of my present state 
flashing back ; and my heart sank as 1 replied, “ I did not dare ; I 
am so different now. But i have a note for you. Miss Carr.” 

I took Mr. Lister’s note from my pocket, and gave it to her, 
noticing at the time that she took it and laid it quietly down, in 
place of opening it eagerly. 

“ I shall always be glad to see you, Antony, that is, so long as 
you prove to me that you have not been unworthy of my recom- 
mendation.” 

“ 1 will always try,” I cried eagerly. 

“ I feel sure you will,” she said. “ Mr. Ruddle tells me you are 
rising fast.” 

I coloured with pleasure, and then reddened more deeply as I 
saw that she noticed me, and smiled. 

“ But now, come, tell me of yourself— what you do and how 


140 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


you get on ; ” and by degrees, almost without questioning, I told 
her all my proceedings. For soinehow, it seemed the highest 
delight to me to be once more in the society of a refined lady. 
Her looks, her touch, the very scent emanating from her dress and 
the flowers, seemed so to bring back the old days that I felt as if I 
were once more at home, chatting away to my mother. And so 
the time slipped by till I imperceptibly found myself telling Miss 
Carr all about my old pursuits — our life at home and my favourite 
books, she being a willing listener, when, suddenly, a clear, silvery- 
toned clock began to strike and dissolved the spell. The old 
drawing-room, the lawn beyond the French window, the scent of 
the flowers, seemed to pass away to give place to the great print- 
ing-office and my daily work, and with a choking sensation in my 
throat, I remembered what I was — the messenger who had for- 
gotten his errand, and I started to my. feet. 

Why, Antony ! ’’ exclaimed Miss Carr, “ what is it ? ” 

1 had forgotten,” 1 said piteously ; “ I brought you a note ; 
Mr. Lister will be angry if I do not take back the answer.” 

The aspect of Miss Carr’s face seemed to change from a look 
of anxious wonder to one of sternness. There was a slight contrac- 
tion of the handsome brow, and her voice was a little changed as 
slie said quietly — 

“ Sit down again, Antony ; both you and I have much to say 
yet.” 

Rut — the letter, ma’am ? ” I faltered. 

‘‘The letter can wuiit,” she replied. Then, smiling brightly ao 
she took my hand once more, “You cannot take back the answer 
till I write it; and come, 1 am alone to-day; my sister is away 
upon a visit; you shall stay to lunch and dinner with me, and 
we’ll read and talk till we are tired.” 

“Oh ! ” I ejaculated. 

“ Do you not wish to stay ? ” she said smiling. 

I could not speak, for the old childish weakness that I had of 
late nearly mastered was almost conqueror again. It did get the 
better of my voice, but I involuntarily raised her soft white hand 
to my lips, and held it there for a few moments ; while her eyes, 
even as they smiled upon me, seemed half-suffused with tears." 

“ I will w’rite to Mr. Lister presently,” she said at last, “ and 
tell him I detained you here. That will, ! am sure, be quite 
sufficient ; so, Antony, you are my visitor for the rest of the day. 
And now tell me more about yourself.” 

r could not speak just then, but sat thinking,.Miss Carr watch- 
ing me the while; but we were soon chatting away pleasantly till 
the servant came and announced lunch. 


SUNSinNE. 


141 


CHAPTER XXVL 

SUNSHINE, 

As we went down into the handsome dining-room I seemed to be 
in a dream, in the midst of which I heard Miss Carr’s voice tell- 
ing the servant he need not wait ; and as the door closed she laid 
her hand upon my shoulder and led me to the front of a large 
picture of a very beautiful woman, standing with her arm resting 
upon the shoulder of a grey-haired massive-looking man, not 
handsome, but with a countenance full of intelligence and 
force. 

We stood silently before them for a few moments, and then 
Miss Carr spoke ; 

Can you tell who those are, Antony ? ” she said. 

** Your papa and mamma,” I said, looking from the picture to 
her face. 

** My dear father and mother, Antony,” she said, in a low, sweet 
voice ; and her lips moved afterwards while she stood gazing up 
at them, as if saying something to herself. 

I remember feeling well satisfied that I had on my best clothes 
that morning. I had reluctantly taken to them, but my others 
had grown so bad that I had been obliged. Then, too, there was 
a feeling of gratification that my hands were clean, and not 
stained and marked with ink. I remember feeling that as I took 
up the snowy table-napkin, All the rest was so dreamy and 
strange, only that I felt quite at home, and troubled by no sense 
of awkwardness. Moreover, Miss Carr’s behaviour towards me, 
as she intently watched my every action, became more and more 
warm, till it seemed to me as if 1 were in the society of some very 
dear sister ; and a couple of hours later I felt as if we had known 
each other all our lives. 

Upstairs once more she played to me, and smiled with pleasure* 
as I picked out my favourite old pieces from the various operas: 
and at last she swung herself round upon the music-stool, and 
rose to draw my arm through hers, walking me thoughtfully up 
and down the room. 

What should you like to be, Antony ? ” she said half-play- 
fully, a soldier P ” 

** There’s something very grand about being a soldier,” I said 
thoughtfully, “ when he fights to save his country ; but no. I’m 
afraid I should be a coward.” 

** A sailor, then ? ” 

** No, Miss Carr,” I said, shakirg my head. I should either 
like to be a barrister or a doctor. I think I should like to be a 
doctor. No, I should like to bean engineer, and help Mr, Hallett 
with his ” 


142 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


I stopped short and coloured, for I felt that I had nearlj 
betrayed my friend. 

Well ? ” she said in a strange, hesitating way, “ Mr. Hallett’s 
what ? ” 

Please don’t think me ungrateful, Miss Carr,” I said, hut I 
cannot tell you. Mr. Ilallett trusted to me the secret of what he 
is making, and I caimot say more. Yes, I may say that he is 
busy over a great invention.” 

I fancied she drew her breath as if it caught and gave her pain, 
but her face was like marble as she went on. 

“ Antony, you are quite right,” she said ; “ and if I had ever 
had any doubts about your being a gentleman’s son, these words 
would have removed it. So you would like to be an engineer ? ” 

Yes,” I said, very much.” 

She continued walking up and down the room, and then went 
on: 

You lodge, you say, with a Mr. Revitts, a policeman. Is he 
respectable and nice ? ” 

‘‘ He’s the dearest, best old fellow in the world I ” I said with 
animation. 

“Old?” 

“ No, no,” I said, laughing. “ I meant good and kind by old.” 

“ Oh,” she said, laughing. “ But tell me, Antony ; is he par- 
ticular with you ? ” 

“ Oh yes ; he quite watches me, to make sure what I do, and 
where I go.” 

“ Would you like to go to different and better lodgings ? ” 

“ Oh no,” I said. “ He is going to be married soon to Mary, 
who was so good to me at Mr. Blakeford’s, and they would be so 
disappointed if I left.” 

“ He watches over you, you say P ” 

“Yes, Miss Carr. He was very angry that night when I 
stopped out late with Mr. Hallett, when we had to walk part of 
the way back.” 

“ And — and this Mr. Hallett, is — is he a proper companion for~ 
such a boy as you ? ” 

“ Mr. Hallett is a gentleman, although he is now only a 
common workman,” I said proudly. 

“ But a youth like you would be easily deceived.” 

“ Oh no 1 ” I cried ; “ don’t think that. Miss Carr. 1 would not 
give up Mr. Hallett for anything. You don’t know him,” I said 
almost indignantly. “Why, when his father died, he, poor 
fellow, had to leave college, and give up all his prospects to gain 
a living anyhow, to keep his poor sick mother and his sister.” 

“ He has a sister ? ” 

“ Yes : so very pretty : Linny Hallett. I go there, and read 
Latin and German wdth Mr. Hallett, while he works at his— his 


SUNSHINE 


143 


great invention. Oli, Miss Carr, if you could see him, so good and 
tender tp his invalid complaining mother, you would say 1 ought 
to be only too proud of my friend i ” 

She was pressing my hand as she hastened her steps up and 
down the room. Then, loosing my hand suddenly, she walked 
quickly to the window, and threw it open, to stand there for a few 
minutes gazing out. 

“ The room was too warm, Antony,” she said in a quiet, com- 
posed way ; and her pleasant smile was back upon her face as she 
returned to me. “ Why, we were quite racing up and down the 
room. So you read German, do you ? Come, you shall read a 
bit of Goethe to me.” 

I’m afraid ” 

** That you are not perfect, Antony ? ” she said, laughing in a 
bright, eager way. ** Neither am I. We will both try and 
improve ourselves. Have you well mastered the old, crabby 
characters ? ” 

** Oh yes,” 1 said, laughing. “ My mother taught me them when 
I was very young.” 

** Why, Antony,” she cried, snatching the book from my hands 
at the end of half an hour; you ought to be my master. But 
come, it is nearly dinner-time, and we must dress.” 

Dress ? ” I said, falling down from the seventh heaven to the 
level of Caroline Street, Pentonville, and bouncing back to the 
second floor. 

Weil,” she said, smiling ; “ you would like to wash your hands.” 

The rest of that evening was still more dreamlike than the day. 
I dined with Miss Carr, and afterwards she encouraged me to go 
on talking about myself, and present and past life. I amused her 
greatly about Revitts, and his efforts to improve his spelling ; and 
she smiled and looked pained in turn, as I talked of Mary and my 
life at Mr, Blakeford’s. 

“ I should like to know Mary,” she said, laughing ; Mary must 
be a rough gem.” 

But she is so good at heart ! ” I cried earnestly, for I felt 
pained at the light way in which she spoke of poor Mary. 

“ I am sure she is, Antony,” said Miss Carr, looking at me very 
earnestly ; and then I began to talk of Mr. HaUett, and how kind 
and firm he had been. 

To my surprise, she stopped me, her voice sounding almost 
harsh as she said quietly: 

“ You are learning through a rou^h school, Antony, and are fast 
losing your homelike ways, and childlike — well — innocence ; but 
you are still very impressionable, and ready to take people for 
what they seem. Antony, my boy, you will make many enemies 
as well as friends. Count me always among the latter, and as your 
friend I now say to you, do not be too ready to make friendshins 


144 THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

with men. I should rather see you with a good companion of your 
own age.” 

Yes, Miss Carr,” I said ; “ hut if you knew Mr. Hallett ” 

She held up her hand, and I stopped, for she seemed to turn 
pale and to look angry. 

Antony,” she said, as the tea was brought in, “ you will soon 
have to go, now, and I have not written the answer to the letter 
you brought.” 

No, Miss Carr,” I said; and I could have added, "neither 
have you read it.” 

" It is too late, of course, for you to take an answer back, so I 
shall send one by post. Do not be alarmed,” she said, smiling, as 
she divined my thoughts ; “ no one will be angry with you for 
staying here. It was my wish.” 

" And your wish would be law with Mr. Lister,” I thought. 

" I shall expect you to write to me,” she continued, " and set 
down any books you require. Do not be afraid to ask for them. 
I will either lend or buy them for you.” 

She was pouring out the tea as she spoke, and I took the cup 
from her hand, watching her thoughtfully the while, for she 
seemed to have grown strange and quiet during the last few hours; 
and it set me wondering whether she would ever be so kind to me 
again. In fact, I thought I must have done something to offend 
her. 

That thought was chased away after tea, when we both rose, 
and she held out her hands to me with a very sweet smile, which 
told me the time had arrived when I must go. 

"And now, Antony, you must come and see me again, often. 
Bood-bye.” 

I could not speak, but stood clinging to her hands for a few 
minutes. 

" Don’t think me foolish,” I said, at last ; " but it has seemed 
so strange — you have been so kind — I don’t know why — I have 
not deserved it.” 

" Antony,” she said, laying one hand upon my shoulder, and 
speaking very softly and slowly, "neither do I know why, only 
that your simple little story seemed to go home to my heart. I 
thought then, as I think now, that when I lost both those who 
were near and dear to me, my sister and I might have been left 
penniless, to go out and struggle in the world as you have had 
to do. Once more, good-bye. Only strive on worthily, and you 
shall always find that I am your friend.” 

The next minute I was in the street, dull, depressed, and yet 
elated and joyful, while I ran over again the bright, sunshiny 
hours that had been so unexpectedly passed, as I hastened noi tli- 
ward to join Revitts, for it was one of his home nights. 


LINNY IS OUT LATE. 


146 


CHAPTER XXVU. 

LINNY IS OUT LATE. 

I NOTICED that there was growing trouble at the Halletts’, and 
ma-e than once, when I went up, I found Linny in tears, which, 
however, she hastily concealed. 

This was the case on the night following my visit to Miss Carr, 
whose words, that I need be under no uneasiness,’* were verified. 
The fact that I had been sent out by Mr. Lister was sufficient for 
Mr. Jabez Rowle ; and when, during the next day, I encountered 
Mr. Lister himself, he nodded to me in quite a friendly way, and 
said, “ How are you ? ” 

Mrs. Hallett was asleep, and I went upstairs softly, tapped at 
Hallett’s room-door, and went in, to find him deeply immersed iij 
his task, over which he was bending with knitted brows, and 
evidently in doubt. 

“ Ah, Antony,” he said, “ here we are, as busy as usual. How 
did you get on last night ? ” 

“With Revitts?” 

“ Yes ; was it not your lesson-night ? ” 

“Yes,” I said; “but I thought perhaps you meant at Miss Carr’s 1” 

He dropped the file with which lie had been at work and 
stared at me. 

“ Where did you say ? ” he exclaimed. 

“ Mr. Lister sent me with a note to Miss Carr, and she kept me 
there all day.” 

He drew in his breath with a hiss, caught up the file and went 
on working, while I chattered on, little thinking of the pain I was 
causing the poor fellow, as I rapturously praised Miss Carr and 
her home, and told him by degrees how I had spent the day. 

I was too intent on my narration to pay much heed to Hallett’s 
face, though in fact I hardly saw it, he kept it so bent over his 
task, neither did I notice his silence ; but at last, when it was ten 
o’clock, and I rose to go, ho rose too, and [ saw that he was rather 
paler than usual. 

“Are you ill, Hallett?” I said anxiously. “How white you look.” 

“ 111 ? oh no, Antony. I have been sitting too much over my 
model. You and I must have another run or two into the 
country, and put roses in our cheeks.” 

He looked at me with a smile, but there was a weary, haggard 
look in his eyes tliat troubled me. 

“ Come, you must have a scrap of supper before you go,” he 
said ; and in spite of my protest he led me into the sitting-room, 
where Mrs. Hallett was seated by the shaded lamp reading, and 
the supper-cloth was laid lialf across the lalde. 

“ Yes,” she said, looking up, as she let fall her book ; “ it’s time 


146 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


you came, Stepheu. It’s very, very, very cruel of you to leave me 

alone so long.” 

“ My dear mother,” he said tenderly, ** I did not know you 
were by yourself. Where is Linny ? ” he said anxiously. 

Oh, I don’t know,” replied Mrs. Hallett querulously. You 
are always either out or upstairs with your playthings.” 

“ For Heaven’s sake, mother, he just,” Hallett exclaimed, with 
a burst of energy, such as I had not seen in him before. ** Don’t 
goad me at a time like this. Where, I say, where is Linny P ” 

“ Goad you, Stephen 1 No, I don’t goad you,” whimpered the 
poor woman. I cannot help myself ; say what you will to me. 
You neglect me, and Linny is always running out.” 

Has Tjinny gone out now, mother P ” exclaimed Hallett. 

“ Yes, yes, and I am left all alone — a poor helpless invalid.” 

“ Where has Linny gone, mother ? ” 

I don’t know, Stephen. She said there was something to 
fetch. How can I tell ? ” and she burst into tears. 

Mother, dear mother,” cried Hallett, bending over her and 
kissing her, pray, pray don’t think me unkind ; I am working 
for you, and Lmny too.” 

But if you would only be more ambitious, Stephen — if you 
would only try your poor father’s profession.” 

“ I cannot — you know I cannot, dear,” he said appealingly. 

No, no, no,” sobbed the poor woman ; ** always some low me- 
chanic’s pursuit. Oh dear, oh dear I If it would only please God 
to take me, and let me be at rest ! ” 

“ Mother, dear mother,” whispered HaUett, " be reasonable. 
Pray, dear, he reasonable, and bear with what does seem like 
neglect ; for I am indeed working for you, and striving to make 
you a happier and better home. Believe this of me, and bear 
with me, especially now, when I have two troubles to meet that 
almost drive me mad. Linny, dear : think of Linny.” 

‘‘ Shall I go now, Mr. Hallett P ” I said, for the scene was 
terrible to me, and I felt hot with indignation at one whom I 
looked upon as the most unreasonable of women. 

“ No, Antony ; stay, I may want you,” he said sternly. ** Now, 
mother,” he continued, about Linny. She must not be allowed 
to go out at night like this.” 

^^No, my son,” said Mrs. Hallett piteously; and if you had 
taken my advice the poor child would not have been degraded to 
such menial tasks.” 

“ Mother,” said Hallett, with more sternness than I had yet 
heard him use ir speaking to her, “ it is not the mere going out 
shopping that is likely to degrade your child. The time has come 
when I must insist upon knowing the meaning of these frequent 
absences on Linny’s part. Has she gone out to-night on some 
nt-cessary errand P ” 


LINNY IS OUl LATE. 


147 


“ I — I don’t know, Stephen ; she said she must go.” 

" Tell me, mother — I beg, I insist,” he exclaimed, ** what you 
are keeping from me.” 

“ Nothing, nothing, Stephen,” sobbed the poor woman. 

You’ll kill me with your unkindness before you’ve done.” 

“ Do you mean to tell me that you do not know where Linn\ 
has gone, mother ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, Stephen ; I do not know.” 

“ Has — has she gone to meet anyone ? ” 
don’t know, Stephen; I think so.” 

“Who is it, mother ?” exclaimed Hallett. 

“ I don’t know, Stephen ; indeed I don’t know. Oh, this is very, 
very cruel of you ! ” 

“ Mother,” said Hallett, “ is this just and kind to me, to keep 
such a secret from my knowledge ? Oh, shame, shame I You let 
that weak, foolish child keep appointments with a stranger, and 
without my knowledge — without my knowing it, who stand to 
her in the place of a father. It must be stopped at once.” 

“Let me go, Hallett, please,” I whispered. 

“Yes; go, Antony; it is better that you should not be here 
when Liuny comes back. Good-night — good-night.” 

I hurried downstairs, and let myself out, feeling miserable with 
the trouble I had seen, and I was just crossing Queen Square 
when I saw Linny coming in the opposite direction. 

She caught sight of me on the instant and spoke. 

“ Where did you leave Stephen ? ” she said hastily ; and I saw 
that she was flushed and panting with haste. 

“ With Mrs. Hallett,” I said. 

“Was he scolding because 1 was out P ” 

“ Yes.” 

She gave her head a hasty toss and turned away, looking 
prettier than ever, I thought, but I fancied, as we stood beneath 
a lamp, that she turned pale. 

Before she had gone half-a-dozen steps I was by her side. 

“ Well ? What is it ? ” she said ; and now I saw that she was 
in tears. 

“ Nothing,” I replied; “only that I am going to see you safe home.” 

“ You foolish boy,” she retorted. “ As if I could not take care 
of myself.” 

“ Your brother does not like you to be out alone at night,” 1 
said quietly ; “ and I shall walli with you to the door.” 

“Such nonsense, Antony! Ah, well, just as you like;” and 
she burst into a mocking laugh. 

I knew this was to hide from me the fact that she was in 
tears; and I walked beside her in silence till we had nearly 
reached the door, when we both started, for a dark figure 
suddenly came up to us. 


10—2 


148 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Oh, Steve, how you frightened me I ” exclaimed Linny with a 
forced laugh. 

Did I ” he said calmly ; and then he held out hie hand to 
me and pressed mine. 

He did not speak, but that pressure of his hand meant thanks, 
I thought, for what I had done ; and once more I set myself to 
reach Caroline Street, thinking very seriously about Linny Hal- 
lett, of her mother's weakness and constant complaints, and of the 
way in which Stephen Hallett seemed to devote himself to them 
both. 


CHAPTER XXVITI. 

WB COMPLETE THE MODEL. 

Matters did not improve at Great Ormond Street as the months 
rolled on. There was evidently a serious estrangement between 
Linny and Stephen Hallett ; and in my frequent visits I saw that 
she was as wilful as she was pettish, and that she was setting her 
brother at defiance. Mrs. Hallett was more piteous and com- 
plaining than ever, and her son grew haggard and worn with care. 

Once or twice, when Linny went out, Hallett had insisted upon 
going with her, when she had snatched off her hat and jacket, 
exclaiming: 

It does not matter ; I can go when you are away. I am not 
a child, Stephen, to be treated in such a way as this.” 

He stood looking down at her, more in sorrow than in anger, 
and beckoning me to follow, he went up to his attic and turned 
to his model, but sat down thinking, with his head upon his hand. 

Can I do anything to help you, Hallett .f' ” I said anxiously; 
and he roused himself directly, and smiled in my face. 

“No, Antony,” he said, “nothing. I could only ask you to 
follow her, and be a spy upon her actions, and that would degrade 
us both. Poor child ! I cannot win her confidence. It is ray 
misfortune, not my fault. I am no ladies’ man, Antony,” he 
continued bitterly. “ Here, let us try the model. I meant to 
have finished to-night ; let us see how my mistress behaves.” 

He often used to speak in a laughing way of the model as his 
mistress, after Mrs. Hallett telling him one day that it was the 
only thing he loved. 

It was then about nine o’clock, and putting aside reading for 
that evening, I helped him to fit together the various parts. The 
framework had been set up and taken down and altered a score 
of times, for, as may be supposed in such a contrivance as this, 
with all its complications, it was impossible to make every part 


WE COMPLETE Ti E MODEL. 


149 


at first in its right proportions. In fact, I found out that for 
quite a couple of years past Hallett had been slowly and pain- 
fully toiling on, altering, re-making, and re-modelling his plans. 
It was always the same. No sooner had he by patient entei-prise 
nearly finished, as he thought, than he would find out that some 
trifle spoiled the unity of the whole machine, and he had had to 
begin nearly all over again. 

“ There, Antony,” he said, on the night in question, as he laid 
down the last wheel, one that he had had specially made for the 
purpose, I have got to the end of my thinking to-night. I have 
looked at the model in every direction ; I have tried it from every 
point of view, and if it is not a success now, and will not work, 
I shall throw it aside and try no more. What are you smiling 
at, boy?” 

^‘Only at you,” I said, laughing outright, for we were now, 
when at his bouse, on the most familiar terms. 

** And why ? ” he said, half amused, half annoyed. 

** I was thinking of what you so often say to me when I am 
discouraged and can’t get on.” -• 

What do you mean ? ” 

“ ‘ Never say die I ’ ” I replied, laughing. ** I know you’ll try 
again, and again, till you get the thing right and make it go.” 

“ Should you ? ” he said, looking at me curiously. 

“ Of course I would,” I cried, with my cheeks flushing. I 
never would give up with a puzzle at home, and this is only a big 
puzzle. It seems, too, as if we always get a little bit nearer to 
success.” 

“ Yes,” he said, nipping his lips together ; “ that’s what makes 
it so enticing. It seems to lure me on and on, like a will-o’-the- 
wisp in a marsh. You’re right, Antony, my lad ; never say die ! 
I must and will succeed.” 

Hurray I” I cried, pretending to throw up my cap. “ Success 
to Hallett’s great invention ! Patent, of course ? ” 

“ Yes," he said, with a sigh ; ‘‘ but where is the money to come 
from for the patent ? ” 

“Suppose we finish it first,” I said, laughing. 

“ Right, my young wisepate,” he cried; “but, good heavens! 
it’s eleven o’clock. Come, sir, pack off home to your lodging.” 

“ Why, I thought we were to set the model going to-night ? ” 
I said, in a disappointed tone. 

“ Yes, I did mean it,” he said, fitting a couple of cog-wheels one 
into the other. “ But it is too late now.” 

“ Let’s try for another hour,” I said eagerly. 

“No, no, my boy. I don’t like you to be out so late. Mr. 
Revitts will be annoyed.” 

“He’s away on duty,” I said. “.Tust another hour, and then 
you can walk part of the way home with me.” 


150 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Well, just an hour,” he said, with his pale face flushing- with 
pleasure ; and we >jet to at once, he fitting together, while 1 
polished and oiled wheels and spindles, and handed them and the 
various screws to him to fit in their places. 

The model was as intricate as a clock, and there were endless 
little difficulties to combat; hut there was something so fasci- 
nating in the task as the bright brass wheels were placed in order, 
and it begat such an intense longing to see it in motion, executing 
in miniature the great desire of Hallett’s life, that we forgot all 
about time, and &pt steadily on till there were only a few screws 
to insert and nuts to tighten, and the task would be done. 

Hallett looked up at me as he re-trimmed the lamp by which 
we worked, and I across the table at him, laughing at his puzzled 
face, for we had unconsciously been at work over three hours, and 
it was past two. 

‘‘ This is dreadful, Antony,” he exclaimed, with a comical look 
of chagrin on his face. “ I seem fated to lead you into all sorts 
of dissipation. What are we to do ? I cannot let you go home 
so late as this. You must lie down here.” 

“ I’m not a bit sleepy,” I said, ** but I am hungry.” 

“Then you shall have some supper,” he said dreamily, and with 
his eyes fixed upon his model, forgetting me the next moment, as 
with his dexterous fingers he tried the action of one or other of 
the wheels. 

“ It’s a pity to leave it now,” I cried. 

“ Yes, yes,” he said with a sigh ; “ it is a pity : but it must be 
left. I dare ” 

He ceased talking, becoming completely abstracted in his task 
of screwing on a nut, and without speaking I helped and watched 
and helped until quite an hour and a half more had glided by, 
when with a look of triumph he stood erect, for the task was 
done. 

“ She’s finished, Antony,” he cried, and in the elate eager face 
before me I seemed to see some one quite different to the stern, 
quiet compositor I met daily at the great printing-office by Fetter 
Lane. 

I was as delighted as he, and together we stood gazing down 
at the bright, beautiful bit of mechanism — the fruit of years of 
toil and endless thought; but as I gazed at it a strange dull feel- 
ing of anxiety came over me, and I glanced timorously at HaRett, 
for the thought flashed across my mind ; 

“ What will he say now if it fails ? ” 

I literally trembled with dread as this thought forced its way 
home, and with a choking sensation at my throat I watched his 
eager, elated face each moment becoming more joyous and full of 

f »ride ; and the more I witnessed his pleasure, the more I feared 
est his hopes should be dashed. 


WE COMPLETE THE MODEL 


161 


"Why, it’s daybreak, Antony,” he said, drawing up the blind. 
" My poor hoy, what a thoughtless wretch I am. It is cruel to you. 
Come and lie down directly.” 

“ No,” I said eagerly, " I want to see the model going.” 

"And so do I, Antony,” he cried passionately; "but now the 
time has come, my boy, I dare not try. I feel a horrible dread of 
failure, and I must cover it over with a cloth, and leave it till I feel 
more calm.” 

He took up the large black cloth with which he had been in the 
habit of covering it from the dust, and stood gazing down at the 
bright brass model which had begun to glisten in the soft pure 
morning light now stealing in from amidst the London chimney- 
pots, while a couple of sparrows seated upon the parapet set up a 
cheery chirp, 

I felt that I dared not speak, but as if I should have liked 
to lead him away from the infatuation of his life. Somehow 
I knew that it would break down, and the anguish he must feel 
would be something I could not bear to see ; and yet, combined 
with this, I shared his longing to see the model at work — the 
beautiful little piece of mechanism that was to produce a revolu- 
tion in printing — turning easily, smoothly, and well. 

As I gazed at his eager, anxious face, the pale light in the sky 
changed to a soft warm flush ; bright flecks of orange and gold 
sent their reflections into the dingy garret, and seemed to illu- 
mine Hallett’s countenance, as with straining eyes and parted 
lips he stood there cloth in hand. 

" Antony,” he said, in a low hoarse voice, " I am a coward. I 
feel like a gambler who risks his all upon a stake, and dare 
not look upon the numbers — upon the newly cast dice. No, no, 
I dare not try it now ; let it rest till to-night.” 

As he spoke he covered it carefully with the black cloth, but 
only to snatch it away, apostrophising it the while. 

" No, no,” he cried ; " it is like covering you with a pall and 
saying you are dead, when, you, the birth of my brains, are ready 
to leap into new life — new life indeed — the life of that which 
has had no existence before. Antony, boy,” he said exultingly, 
" what time could be more fitting than the birth of a new day for 
my invention to see the light ? Throw open the window and 
let in the glow of sunshine and sweet fresh air. It is unsullied 
yet, and it will give us strength for our for our ” 

He hesitated, and his exulting tone changed to one of calm re- 
bignation. It was as if he had felt the shadow of failure coming 
on, and he said softly : 

"Our triumph, Antony; or, God help me, fortitude to bear our 
failure ! ” 

I had opened the window, and the soft refreshing morning air 
floated into the room, seeming to bring with it a suggestion of 


l.Vi 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


the scents of the sweet, pure country; and now, in the midst of 
the silence, broken only by the chirping of the sparrows, and 
the distant rattle of the wheels of some market-cart, I saw 
Ilallett’s countenance grow stern as he placed a little reel of thin 
paper, narrow as a ribbon, upon a spindle, and then, motioning 
to me to go to the handle which was to set the model in motion, 
he stood there with set teeth, and I turned. 

There was a clicking, humming noise, the whirring of wheels, 
and the rattle of the little cogs ; the ribbon of paper began to run 
off its spool, and pass round a tiny cyliilder ; and at that moment 
the little model seemed illumined by a brilliant ray of sunshine, 
which darted in at the open window. Then the light seemed to 
be glorifying Hallett’s face, and I w’-as about to utter a clieer, when 
I felt a jar, and a shock from the fingers tha,t held the handle run 
right up my arm. There was a sharp, grating noise, a tiny, piercing 
shriek as of tortured metal ; and in place of the busy glistening, 
whirring wheels an utter stillness. A cloud crossed the rising 
sun, and with a bitter sigh Hallett stooped down and picked up 
the black cloth, which he softly and reverently drew over the 
wreck of his work, as I stood with dilated eyes looking at him 
aghast. 

“ Poor model,” he said softly, “ dead so soon I ” and with a 
sad, weary air of resignation as he smiled at me: it was a 
very short life, Antony. Let us go down, my boy. You must 
be wearied out.” 

I followed him on to the landing without a word, and after he 
had locked up the attic he led the way softly to the sitting-room, 
where he lit a fire and we had some breakfast, for it was too late 
to think of bed. Shortly afterwards we walked down together 
to the office, and I saw him no more till the day’s work was 
done. 


CIIAPTEU XXIX. 
anotheh wakeful night, 

Stephen Hallett was in too much trouble to speak to me 
about the model that evening. Mrs. Hallett was in tears, and full 
of repinings, and Linny was out, it seemed, when her brother had 
returned. 

T soon found that he did not wish me to stay, and being tired 
out, I made the best of my way back to Caroline Street, and 
went to bed to sleep heavily, dreaming that Hallett and I were 
working away at the model, but as fast as ever we got it nearly 
to perfection, Mr. Blakeford came and stood by to throw in the 


ANOTHER WAIIEFUL xNIGHT. 


153 


pieces of the stick with which he had been beaten by Mr. Wooster, 
and every time he did so the little model was broken. 

Tlien the whole scene of the flogging seemed to take the place of 
Hallett’s attic, and I saw Mr. Blakeford sit down in a chair, pant- 
ing, bloody, and exhausted, and he kept on saying in a low hoarse 
voice, “ Antony, lad, water ! 

It was very terrible to see him sitting there by the light of the 
office gas, for though I wanted to help him, the powder was not 
tliere, and, strive how I would, I could not get to his side, or fetch 
what he asked for. 

“ Antony, lad, water ! ” 

His voice sounded like a groan, and I knew he must he very 
bad ; but still I could not help him, and the bitter moan with 
which he appealed to me seemed to cut me to the heart. 

“ Antony, lad, water 1 ” 

There it was again, and I started up to find myself in bed, with 
a candle burning in the room, and Revitts, with his hat on the 
floor, his coat torn open, and his face besmeared with the blood 
flowing from a cut in the forehead, was seated close beside his bed, 
evidently half fainting. 

“ Antony, lad, water ! ” he moaned ; and leaping out of bed 
and hurrying on some clothes, I tried to give him what help 
I could, but in a strangely confused way ; for I was, as it were, in 
a dream, consequent upon the deep sleep succeeding a night with- 
out my usual rest. I held a glass of water to his lips, liowever, 
from which he drank with avidity. And then, awakening more 
to the state in which he was, and realizing that it was not a 
dream, I set to work and sponged and bound up the cut with 
a handkerchief, to find, however, to my hoiTor, that there was 
another terrible cut on the back of his head, which was also 
bleeding profusely. 

My next idea was to go for a doctor, but I reflected that 
I ought to first bind up the other wound, and this I did, leaving 
him in the chair, with his chest and head lying over on the 
bed, looking so white that a chill of horror shot through me, 
for I fancied that he was dying, 

I knew there was a doctor’s two streets off, and I ran to where 
the red bull’s-eye in the lamp shone out like a danger signal; rang 
the night-bell ; heard a window above me open, and, after 
explaining my business and what was the matter, the medical man 
promised to come. 

I ran back to find that Revitts had not moved, but that my at- 
tempts to bandage his wounds had proved to be ineffectual. I 
did what more I could, though, and then sat horror-stricken and 
silent, holding the poor fellow’s hand, speaking to him at intervals, 
but eliciting nothing but a moan. 

It seemed as if the doctor would never come, and I was about to 


154 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


rouse up some of the people in the house when I heard the bell, and 
ran to admit him. 

He looked curiously at me as I stood there, candle in hand, and 
as I closed the door he said gruffly : 

** A drunken fall, I suppose ? ” 

Oh no, sir,” I said hastily. ** Mr. Revitts never drinks.” 

** Humph ! ” he ejaculated ; and I led him up to where Revitts sat, 

“ Policeman, eh P ” said the doctor ; ** this is a job for the 
surgeon to the division, my man. Mustn’t leave him to bleed 
to death, though.” 

He slipped off his coat, and, exerting his strength, lifted poor 
Revitts on to the bed, after which he removed my bandages and 
made an examination. 

“ Hold the candle nearer, boy, nearer still. That’s right. You 
won’t singe his hair. If you do it won’t matter, for I must clip it 
off short. Humph ! some one has given him a pretty topper with 
a thick stick, and he must have fallen with his head on the edge 
of a step. Terrible cuts I ” 

** But will they kill him, sir ? ” I faltered, feeling quite sick at 
the sight of the wounds. 

“We won’t let them, my man. Come, hold up, you mustn’t let 
that turn you faint.” 

“ I — I won’t, sir,” I said. 

“That’s right, my man. Nothing like a little will and deter- 
mination. We men must leave fainting to the girls. That’s 
right; basin and sponge and towel. We’ll soon put him straight. 
Now that case out of my pocket. That’s well. Hold the candle 
nearer. No snuffers? Well, use your fingers. Dirty trick, but 
handy — fingery, I ought to say.” 

He kept on talking — half-playfully, while with his bright 
scissors he clipped the hair away close from Revitts’s forehead, 
and then, cutting up some plaister in strips, he rapidly bandaged 
the cuts, after bringing the edges of the wounds together with a 
few stitches from a needle and some silk. 

“ Poor fellow ! he has got a sad knocking about,” the doctor said 
kindly, for now the annoyance at being called out of bed was over 
he was deeply interested in his case. “ I wonder some of his 
fellow-constables did not take him to the hospital. Where did 
you find him ? ” 

T told him how I was astonished by finding Revitts at my 
bedside. 

“Ah yes, I see,” he said. “Hurt and half-insensible, and 
nature intervenes. Education says, Take him to the hospital; 
instinct bids him, animal-like, creep to his hole to die.” 

“ To die, sir ? ” I cried, catching his hand. 

“ Die ? No : nonsense, boy. I was only speaking metaphori- 
cally, Don’t you see ? ” 


ANOTHER WAICEFUL NIGHT. 


155 


“ Yes, sir,” I said. 

“No, you don’t, you young humbug,” he retorted sharply. 
“ You don’t know what a metaphor is.” 

“Yes, sir, it’s a figure of speech m which one idea is used 
instead of another.” 

“ Hallo I ” he said ; “ why, how do you get your living ? ” 

“ I’m a reading-boy at a printer’s, sir.” 

“ Oh ! Are you ? I should have thought you were reading-boy 
to a professor of language. Well, we musn’t forget our patient. 
Give me a glass, boy.” 

“Will a teacup do, sir ? ” 

“ Oh yes, and a teaspoon. That’s right,” he said; and, empty- 
ing a little phial into the cup, he proceeded to give poor Revitts 
some of the stimulus it contained. 

“ There,” he said, “ he’s coming round, poor fellow ; but I dare- 
say he’ll be a bit shaky in the head. He mustn’t get up, and you 
must give notice at his station as soon as it’s light, or to the first 
policeman you see.” 

“ But you don’t think he’ll die, sir ? ” 

“ Die, my man ? No. A great stout fellow like that is not 
likely to die from a crack or two on the head.” 

I drew a long breath of relief, and soon after the doctor left, 
bidding me not be alarmed if I found his patient slightly 
delirious. 

It was no pleasant task, sitting there alone, watching by my 
poor friend, and many times over I felt so alarmed at his condition 
that I rose to go and rouse up some of the people of the house ; 
but whenever I reached the door the doctor’s reassuring words 
came back, and, feeling that he must know what was right, I sat 
by the bedside, holding Revitts’ hand till towards morning, when 
he began to move uneasily and to mutter and throw about his 
arms, ending by seeming to wake from a troubled sleep. 

“ Where am I p ” he said sharply. 

“ Here at home, in bed,” I said. 

“ Who’s that ? ” 

“ It is I, Bill, don’t you know me ? ” 

“ Yes, yes, I know you ! ” he said. “ Oh, my head, my head ! ” 

“ What was it ? How was it done ? ” I said. 

There was a pause, and then, in a weary way : 

“ I don’t know — I can’t recollect. Everything’s going round. 
Yes, I know: I heard a little girl call out for help, and I saw a 
fellow dragging her towards an open door, and 1 went at him.” 

“ Yes, Bill. Well P ” 

“That’s all. I don’t know anything else. Oh, my head, mj 
head!” 

“ But did he hit you ? ” I asked, 

“ Yes, I think so, and I w^int down^” he grQaned ; “ and I don’t 


166 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


know any — any more, but I should know that fellow out of a 
thousand, and ” / 

He began muttering to himself, and as I bent over him I 
fancied I made out the word staff,” but all else was unintel- 
ligible, and the poor fellow sank into a heavy sleep which seemed 
likely to last. 

Soon after seven I ^ot the landlady to come and sit with him 
while I ran to the police-station, and told the inspector on duty 
about Kevitts’ state. 

There,” he exclaimed to another officer, ** I told you so. He’s 
too steady a fellow to have gone wrong. All right, my man, 
rU send on the surgeon, and we’ll see what’s to be done. You 
don’t know how it was ? ” 

I told him all I knew, and then ran on to Hallett’s to ask him 
to get me excused at the office-. 

I found him looking very pale, but Linny was not visible ; and 
then I told him about Kevitts’ state. 

It’s very strange,” he exclaimed. Linny came home in 
trouble last night. She said some man had insulted her, and when 
she called for help a policeman ran up ; and she left them 
struggling together while she made her escape and came 
home.” 

Then it must have been Kevitts who helped her,” I said ; and 
I then told him that I wanted to stay with the poor fellow. 

“ I’ll arrange all that for you, Antony,” he said quietly ; and I 
made the best of my way back to Caroline Street, to find that 
poor Kevitts had not moved, only kept on muttering where he had 
been laid by the doctor ; and I took the watcher’s place, made tea 
for him, and spoke to him again and again, but without result. 

The police surgeon came soon after with the inspector I had 
seen, asked me a few questions as he examined the injuries, and 
then I saw him tighten his lips. 

Hadn’t he better be taken to the infirmary, sir ? ” the inspector 
asked. 

“ No,” was the reply ; “ he must not be moved.” Then, turning 
to me : ** You had better get some one to come and nurse him, 
my lad/’ he said ; “ mother, sister, or somebody. I’ll call in 
again in •‘’he evening.” 

I knew from this that the poor fellow must be seriously hurt, 
and had I wanted confirmation, I had it in the delirious mutter- 
ings that now came from his lips. 

I sat by him in gi-eat trouble, wondering what I should do, 
when the doctor I had fetched called in, who, on learning that the 
divisional surgeon had been, iiodded his satisfaction and turned 
to go. 

“ Pleas*? tell me, sir,” I said, is he very, very bad ? ” 

“ Well, bad enough, my lad ; you see, he has got concuss^u of 


ANOTHER WAKEFUL NIGHT. 


157 


the ‘brain, and I daresay he will be iU for some time, but I do not 
anticipate anything serious. He must have a nurse.” 

As soon as he had gone I sat and thought for a few minutes 
what I ought to do. Miss Carr was very kind and generous. If 
I asked her she would pay for a nurse ; but no, I would not ask 
her without first consulting Hallett. He would help me in my 
difficulty, I felt sure, especially as it was probable that Jjinny 
was the girl poor Revitts had protected. But Hallett would not 
be back till evening, and then perhaps he would — no, he would 
be sure to come in. 

I sat thinking, and the landlady came up, full of bewailings 
about her injured lodger, and in her homely way promised to come 
and wait on him from time to time. Then a bright thought 
occurred to me. I would write and tell Mary that Revitts was 
hurt, for I felt that she ought to know, and hastily taking pen 
and paper, I wrote her word that my Mend was very ill, and 
asked her to tell me the address of some of his relations, that I 
might send them word. I did not forget to add a postscript, 
urging her to secrecy as to my whereabouts, for my dread of Mr. 
Blakeford was as great as ever. 

Seizing my opportunity when Revitts was more quiet, I slipped 
out and posted the letter, running back panting to find that a lady 
had come — so the landlady said-curing my absence, and, rushing 
upstairs I stood staring with amazement on finding Linny in the 
room taking off her jacket and hat, 

** You hero, Linny ? ” I exclaimed. 

** Yes,” she said quietly. “ Why not P ” 

Was it you, then, that poor Revitts helped last night P ” 

Yes,” she said, with a shiver, and she turned white. “Yes, 
poor fellow. It was very brave of him, and I have come to help 
him in return.” 

“ But does — does Stephen know ? ” 

“ How can he,” she said meekly, “ when he is at the office ? ” 

“ But I am sure he would not approve of your coming,” I said 
stoutly. 

“ I can’t help that,” she replied quietly. “He will think it his 
duty to find fault, and I think it mine to come and help to nurse 
this poor fellow who was hurt in serving me.” 

“ But your mother — Mrs. Hallett ? ” 

“ I have arranged for some one to go in and wait upon her till 
I go back,” said Linny quietly. “ Now, what had I better do P ” 

1 could think of nothing better than to suggest some beef-tea, 
and she snatched at the notion, running out to fetch the material ; 
and soon after having it simmering by the fire, while she tidied 
the room in a way only possible to a woman ; and as she busied 
herself in a quiet, quick fashion, I could not help noticing how 
pale and subdued she seemed. It was very evident that her 


158 


THE STORY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


nerves bad bad a severe shock on the previous night, and as 1 
gazed at the pretty, soft little face and figure, bending themselves 
so earnestly to the task in hand, I could hardly believe it was the 
same giddy, coquettish girl who caused her brother so much 
concern. 

The day wore slowly by, and in spite of my efforts and real 
anxiety, I could not keep awake, but caught myself dozing off 
sometimes to start up, feeling horribly guilty, and ready to excuse 
myself to Linny on the plea that I had had hardly any sleep for 
two nights. 

The more need for me to come, Antony,” she said quietly, and 
bidding me lie down for an hour or two, she took out her work 
and seated herself by the sick man’s pillow. 

She woke me up at last to have a sort of tea-dinner with her, 
after I had seen that Revitts remained perfectly insensible, and then 
the evening wore on, the surgeon came and nodded his satisfaction 
at finding a nurse there, said that the patient was going on all 
right, but must have time, and took his leave. 

At half-past eight, just as I had anticipated, Hallett arrived, 
and started with surprise on seeing his sister. 

“ You here ? ” he said, with an angry look upon his brow. 

“ Yes, Stephen,” she said quietly ; ‘‘ I have come to help nurse 
him.” 

It was an ill-advised step,” he said sternly. " You did not 
know that this was the man who protected you.” 

“ I felt so sure of it that I came to see,” she replied. “ Don’t be 
angry with me, Stephen,” she whispered. • T owned to you last 
night that I was in fault, and meant to do better.” 

“ Yes, and refused to answer my questions,” he replied. You 
do not tell me whom you went to see.” 

Is it not enough that I have promised you ITl go no more ? ” 
she replied with quivering lips. 

Yes, yes, my child,” he said tenderly, as he took her in his 
arms and laid his cheek against her forehead. It is enough, and 
I wdll not press you. Dear Linny, indeed I strive for your 
good.” 

“ I know that, Stephen,” she cried with a wild burst of tears, 
anl, flinging her arms round his neck, she kissed him again and 
again. ‘‘ My own brave, good brothei*,” she said ; ^^and I’ve been 
so ungrateful and selfish ! Oh, Stephen, I’m a beast — a wretch I ” 
she sobbed. 

Hush, hush, little one,” he said ; and then, starting, he held 
her at arm’s length and gazed full in her eyes. ** Why, Linny,” 
he exclaimed, as a light seemed to have flashed across his mind, 
** it was that man — you went to meet — who insulted you.” 

She turned away her face, and hung her head, shivering as he 
spoke, and weeping bitterly. 


REVITTS’ NUESE ARRIVES. 


159 


" It was/’ he cried ; you do not deny it. The v. ilain 1 ” 

** Please, please don’t, Stephen,” she sobbed in a low, piteous 
voice. 

Linny I ” he cried hoarsely ; and his face looked terrible. “ If 
I knew who it was, I believe I should kill him 1 ” 

“ Stephen,” she wailed, “ pray — pray I We are not alone.” 

** There is only Antony here,” he said, “ and he is like a 
brother.” Then, making an effort over himself, he strained the 
little panting figure to his breast, and kissed her tenderly. “ It is 
all past, my darling,” he said to her softly, and he smoothed her 
hair with his hand, as if she had been his child. I’ll say no 
more, dear, for you have promised me.” 

" Yes ; and I will keep my word, Stephen.” 

He kissed her again, and loosed her, to stand with brows knit 
with trouble. 

** I do not like your coming here, Linny,” he cried at last. 

" Why not, dear ? ” she said, laying her hands upon his shoulder. 
** It is an earnest of my promise. He came to me when I was in 
trouble.” 

“ Yes,” he said ; “ you are right,” and after looking at the 
patient he sat down and talked to us in a low tone. 

Is it not nearly time for you to go back, Linny ? ” Hallett said 
at last. 

“ Back ! ” she said ; I am going to sit up with Antony ; the 
poor fellow must not be left. The doctor said so.” 

Hallett took a turn up and down the room, and then stopped. 

You have had no sleep for two nights, Antony,” he said. 
'^Lie down. I will sit up with my sister, and watch by poor 
Revitts’ side.” 

I protested, but it was in vain ; and at last I lay down in my 
clothes to watch the faces of brother and sister by the shaded 
lamp, till my eyes involuntarily closed, and I opened them again 
to see the two faces in the same positions, but without the lamp, 
for there was the morning light. 


CHAPTER XXX. 
revitts’ nurse arrives. 

Hallett left quite early, to see that Mrs. HaUett was properly 
attended to, and he moreover undertook to speak to either Mr. 
Ruddle or Mr. Lister about my absence, as, joined to my desire to 
stay with poor Revitts, Hallett wished me to bear his sister 
company. 

Our patient was on the whole very quiet, but at times he moved 


160 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


his head to and fro and talked loudly, much being- unintelligible, 
but I sa-w Linny’s countenance change several times as she heard 
him threaten the man he looked upon as an enemy. 

“ Can I do anything for you ? ” said I A nny to him on one occasion, 
as he tried to raise himself upon his arm and stared at her -wildly. 

’Taint as if I’d got my staff out to him, you know,” he said in 
a whisper. He’s a coward, that’s what he is, and I shall know 
him again, and if I do come acrost him — ah ! ” 

Linny shrank away, with her eyes looking wild and strange, so 
that I thought she was frightened by his words, and I interposed 
and put my arm under the poor fellow’s head. 

Lie down. Bill,” I said. “ Does your head hurt you P ” 

“I don’t mind about my head,” he mutiered, “but such a 
coward ; treat a little bit of a girl like that. Where’s my note- 
book ? Here, it’s time I went. Where’s that boy ? ” he cried 
angrily ; “ I know what liondon is. I won’t have him stop out of 
a night.” 

He sank back exhausted, and as I turned from him to speak to 
Linny, I saw that she was in tears. 

“ He frightens you,” 1 said ; “ but you needn’t be afraid.” 

“ Oh no ! I’m not,” she cried ; “ it’s only because I’m low and 
nervous. I shall be better soon.” 

The surgeon came twice that^ day, and said the case was serious, 
but that there was no cause for alarm. 

“ He gives no clue, I suppose, to who struck him, ray boy ? ” he 
said. 

“No, sir,” I replied; “he talks about some man, and says he 
would know him again.” 

“ The police are trying hard to find out how it was. If they 
could find the girl it would be easy.” 

I was just going to say, “ Here she is, sir ! ” when I happened to 
glance at Linny, who was pale as ashes, and stood holding up her 
hand to me to be silent. 

This confused me so that I hardly understood what the surgeon 
said, only that he wanted a stronger and more mature person to 
attend to Revitts ; but when I told liim that the landlady came up 
to help he was satisfied, and left, saying that he should come 
in again. He was no sooner gone than Linny caught me by the arm. 

“Oh, what an escape!” she cried; “Antony, you know how 
wilful and cruel I have been to poor Steve ? ” 

“ Yes,” I said, nodding my head. 

“ And you know how I have promised him that I will always 
do as he wishes P 

“ Yes, I know that too,” said ; “ and I hope you will.” 

“ I will — indeed I will, Antony,” she wailed ; “ but please 
promise me, pray promise me, that no one shall ever know besides 
us that it was I whom Mr. Revitts here — a — protected.” 


REVITTS’ NUESE AEEIVES. 


161 


But the wretch of a fellow who behaved so badly to you, and 
beat poor Revitts like this, ought to be punished.” 

‘*No, no — no, no!” she cried excitedly; *Met it all pass now, 
Antony — dear Antony, for my sake.” 

I like you, Linny,” I said ; but I like dear old Revitts, too. 
He has been the best of friends to me, and I don’t see why a 
friend of yours should escape after serving him like this.” 

“ He — he is not a friend of mine now,” she said, half hysteric- 
aUy ; “ but, dear Antony, I could not bear for him to be punished. 
It was in a fit of passion. I had made him angry first. Please, 
please don’t say any more — I cannot bear it ! ” 

She sank down on the hearth-rug, covering her face with her 
hands and sobbing bitterly, while I felt, boy-like, powerless to say 
anything to comfort her, till I exclaimed ; 

“ Well, I won’t tell or say anything I know, Linny, if you will 
keep your word to Stephen.” 

** I will — indeed I will, dear Antony,” she cried, starting up 
and catching both my hands. “ I was very, very foolish, but I 
know better now, and it — it — it is all past.” 

She said those last words in such a piteous, despairing way, 
looking so heart-broken, that my sympathies were now all on her 
side, and I promised her again that I would not tell Revitts or the 
police that she was the girl who had been in question. I repented 
cf my promise later on, but at my time of life it was not likely 
that I should know how ready a woman who loves is to forgive 
the lapses of him who has won her heart, and of course I could not 
foresee the complications that would arise. 

The surgeon came again, as he had promised, and after the 
examination of the patient, ordered some ice to be obtained to 
apply to his head, and directly he had gone I started off to fetch 
it, thinking as I did so that Hallett would soon be with us. 

I was not long in getting a lump of bright, cold, clear ice, and 
on hurrying back, I heard voices in the room, when, to my surprise 
and delight, there stood Mary, but looking anything but pleased. 
She had thrown a large bundle on the floor, her large Paisley 
shawl across the foot of the bed, her umbrella on the table, and a 
basket crammed full of something or another was on a chair. 

As for Mary herself, she was standing, very red in the face, her 
arms akimbo, her bonnet awry, and a fierce angry look in her eyes, 
before poor Linny, who was shrinking away from her, evidently 
in no little alarm. 

** Oh, Antony 1 ” she cried, ** I’m so glad you’ve come ! Who is 
this woman ? ” 

Who’s this woman, indeed I ” cried Mary, now boiling over in 
her wrath ; “ ‘ this woman,’ indeed I Perhaps you’ll tell her that 
I’m a poor deceived, foolish, trusting creature, who left her place 
at a moment’s notice to come and nuss him, and then find as I ain’t 

11 


162 THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

wfiDted, and that he’s already got his fine doll of a madam to wait 
on him.” 

Oh, Mary ! ” I cried ; you dear foolish old thing 1 ” 

** Yes, of course, that’s what I said I was. Master Antony, an(f 
even you turn agen me. But I might have known that such e 
fellow as William Revitts would have half-a-dozen fine madamt 
ready to marry him.” 

This was accompanied by pantings, and snorts, and little stamps 
of the foot, and a general look about poor Mary as if she were 
going to pull off her bonnet, jump upon it, and tear down her hajlr. 

Oh, you foolish old thing 1 ” I cried, fiying at her and literally- 
hugging her in my delight at seeing her so soon, in the midst of 
my trouble. 

Be quiet. Master Antony,” she cried wrathfully, but throwing 
one arm round me as she spoke, in reply to my embrace. But I 
won’t stand it, that I won’t.” 

** But, my good woman,” faltered Linny. 

** Don’t you ^ good woman ’ me, slut I ” cried Mary furiously, 
“ I was going to give up and let you nurse him and kill him, for 
aught I cared, but I won’t now. He’s engaged to me these font 
years, and he’s mine, and this is my place and room, and out you 
go, and the sooner the better ; and — as for B — B— B — Bill — dc 
take your hand from before my mouth. Master Antony ! You’re 
a boy and don’t understand things. Now, then, madam, you 
pack ! ” 

“ Mary, be quiet ! ” I cried ; this is Mr. Hallett’s sister, who 
kindly came to help nurse poor Bill till you could come. Bill 
does not know her ; he never saw her before, but once.” 

“ Only once ? ” said Mary suspiciously. 

No, and then only for a minute. How 'could you be so 
foolish ? ” 

“ Because — because — because ” said Mary, bursting out into 

a passion of sobbing, ‘‘ because my heart was half broke about my 
boy, and I only stopped to pack up a bundle and came — and then 
— when I found that pretty darling here, I — I — oh, my dear — my 
dear — my dear ! ” she cried, flinging herself on her knees at 
Linny’s feet, clutching her dress, and burying her wet face in the 
folds; '^please — ^please — please forgive me, and don’t take no 
notice of my mad, foolish words. I’ve — I’ve — I’ve got such a 
temper ! It’s a curse to me — and I was nearly distracted. Some 
day, p’r’aps, you’ll feel as bad and jealous as I did. Please — 
please forgive me I ” 

'' Oh, yes, yes, yes ! ” cried Linny, whose tears now began to 
flow, and who, kneeling down in turn, drew poor Mary’s face to 
her breast, and the two remained thus, while I went and looked 
out of the window. 

'' Please — pray — forgive me ! ” sobbed Mary. 


REVITTS' NURSE ARRIVES. 


WS 

^ ** Ok yes, yes, I do, indeed I ” whispered Linny. " Antony is 
right ; I never saw Mr. Revitts hut once, and I believe he is a very 
good man, and loves you dearly.” 

That he is, and that he does,” cried Mary, raising her red face, 
and throwing back her hair. Though I don’t know why he 
should care for such a crooked-tempered, rough-tongued thing as I 
am.” 

I thought I could understand why, as I saw Mary’s lit-up face, 
with her bonnet fallen back, and in spite of her distress looking 
quite as handsome as she was warm-hearted. 

But you do forgive me, dear ? ” she faltered, kissing Liriny’s 
hands again and again. 

^ Forgive you I ” cried Linny, kissing her ruddy cheek, “ of 
course I do ; you couldn’t help making the mistake.” 

And, as if feeling that she was the cause of the trouble, Linny 
gave her such a look of tender sympathy that poor Mary was 
obliged to crouch down quite low on the floor again, and hug 
herself tight, and rock to and fro. 

Immediately after, though, she was hastily wiping her eyes on 
the silken strings of her bonnet, which she tore off and sent flying 
to the other end of the room before dashing at me and giving me 
a hug, and then going down on her knees by Revitts’ pillow, and 
laying her cheek against his bandaged forehead. 

My poor old boy,” she whispered softly, “ as if I could stay a 
minute from him ! ” 

The next moment she was up, and giving a great gulp, as if to 
swallow down the emotion caused by Revitts’ appearance, she 
forced a smile upon her face, completely transforming it, and 
quickly but quietly dashed at her basket. 

I hadn’t time to do much, my dears,” she said to Linny and 
me collectively : “ but I thought a pair o’ soles and a chicken 
must be ri^ht for the poor boy. Now, if jrou’ll only tell me where 
he keeps his pepper and salt, and the frying-pan and saucepans, I 
can get on. My sakes, poor boy, what a muddle he did live in, to 
be sure I ” 

We had to stop Mary in her culinary preparations by assuring 
her that the doctor had ordered only beef-tea. 

" Then he may have chicken-broth, my dears,” she said ; “ I’m 
en old nuss, you know, though I wouldn’t attend to Mr. Blakeford 
— eh. Master Antony ? — for fear I should give him his lotion for 
outward application inside. But I can nuss, and not a step do I 
stir from this floor till I’ve made my poor old Bill well. Oh, if I 
only knew who done it ! ” she cried, with a flash of fierce rage ; 
and as she glanced at Linny, the latter shrank away guiltily. Mary 
read her action wrongly, and plumped herself once more at the 
poor girl’s feet. 

** Don’t you mind me, my dear 1 ” she cried kissing her hands 

11—2 


164 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


and her dress. I’m a stupid, rough, jealous thing, and I was aF 
on fire then, but I’m not now, and I humbly ask your pardon ; a*. 
I says, God bless you, for coming to help my poor dear boy ! ” 

There was another burst of sobbing here, and another embrace, 
when Mary jumped up again, all smiles, to apply a little fresh ice 
to the patient’s head, and gently coo over him, as if he were a 
baby. 

After which, and having satisfied herself that the chicken-broth 
was progressing favourably, poor Mary felt it her duty to plump at 
Linny’s feet again, but she jumped up in confusion, as she heard 
the stairs crack as if some one were coming, and then she looked 
inquiringly at me, as the door softly opened and Hallett came in. 

“ Mr. Hallett,” I said, ** this is my dear old Mary, Mr. Revitts’ 
friend, and she’s come up to nurse him. Mary, this is l^Iiss 
Hallett’s brother.” 

Which I’m glad to see him,” said Mary, making a bob, and 
then growing redder in the face as she glanced at Linny, as if 
afraid that her late ebullition would be exposed. 

And I’m very glad to see you, Mary,” said Hallett, smiling 
and holding out his hand, which Mary took after interposing her 
clean pocket handkerchief, on the score that she had been cooking, 

Antony often talked to me about you,” 

Have he, though ? ” said Mary, darting a gratified look at me. 

Often, of your great kindness to him. Your coming has helped 
us out of a great difficulty.” 

" And your dear sister’s coming’s put my heart at rest, for I 
didn’t know, sir, what gin-drinking wretches might be neglecting 
my poor boy.” 

" And how is the patient ?” said HaEett, going to the bedside. 

** The doctor says he is going on all right,’’ I replied. 

Is he a good doctor ? ” said Mary sharply. 

He is certain to be an eminent man,” said Hallett quietly ; 
and his words partially pacified Mary. 

** Because if he ainT,” said Mary,' money shan’t stand in the 
way of his having the best in London.” 

Mary,” said Hallett, in his quiet telling way, and with a look 
that made poor Mary his firm friend, “ a good surgeon will tell 
you that he can do much, but that the recovery of a patient prin- 
cipally depends upon the nurse. I see that Mr. Revitts is safe 
in that respect, and I shall be only too glad to hear of his getting 
well.” 

Mary seemed to have a ball rising in her throat, for she could 
not speak, and this time she forgot to place her pocket handker- 
chief over her hand, as she caught that of the visitor and kissed 
it. 

** You can be quite at rest, Antony,” Hallett said then. ** Mr. 
Ruddle said he was sorry to hear about your friend, and he 


HOW MARY BROKE DOWN. 


166 


should leave it to your good sense to come back to work as soon 
as you could. Mr. Lister is away — ill/’ 

I fancied that he knit his brows as he spoke, but it may have 
been fancy. Then, turning to Linny, he said ; 

I am glad you are set at liberty, Linny. Our mother is very 
unwell. Shall we go now ? ” 

Linny nodded her assent, and put on her hat and jacket ; but 
before they went Mary found it necessary to go down on her knees 
again, and in a whisper to ask Linny’s pardon ; all of which 
Hallett took as an expression of gratitude, and shook hands 
warmly as he left. 

I went with liim down to the door to say good-night, and as we 
parted I asked him not to think I was neglecting him, now he was 
in such trouble with his model. 

I do not, my dear boy ; and I never shall think ill of you for 
being faithful to your friends. Good-night ; the model is buried 
for the present. When you can come again, we’ll try once more 
to bring it back to life.” 

I stood watching them as they went together beneath the street 
lamps, and I was glad to see Linny clinging trustingly to her 
brother’s arm. 

Poor Linny I ” I thought to myself. “ She’s very fond of 
«omebody who behaves badly to her. I wonder who it can be.” 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

HOW MABY BROKE DOWN. 

Few as the minutes of my absence had been, Mary had done a 
good deal towards tidying up the room, and as I entered I could 
see her bonnet and shawl hanging lovingly up against the wall, 
side by side with poor Bill’s hat and greatcoat, just as if they had 
newly entered into the holy state of matrimony. There was 
beginning to be an appetizing odour of chicken in the room, the 
bundle was tucked out of sight, the chairs in order, and it was 
plain to see that a clever housewife had been at work. 

Oh my, how you have growed, my dear ! ” whispered Mary 
ecstatically. ** I never did see a boy improve so. And only to 
think of your running away from old Blakeford and finding out 
my pore Bill, bless him ! ” 

"She ran here to the bed to see if her sweetheart was all right, 
and then turned to me with open arms. 

Give us a kiss, dear,” she cried, and in a moment I was hugged 
tight in her arms and kissed and fondled again and again. 

I a7n glad to see you, you can’t tell how glad,” she cried softly, 


186 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ and it was good of you to write. No sooner did I get your 
letter, than I ups and tells Mrs. Blakeford as I was going away 
directly, because my friend in London was ill.” 

“ But you did not say I wrote, Mary ?” I cried in agony. 

Do you think I was such a silly, my dear ? No, I’d got the 
letter safe in here,” she said, thrusting her hand inside her dress. 

Well, as I was saying — stop a moment — let me look at the broth.” 

She raised the lid, shut it again, had another look at Revitts, 
and then went on : 

“ Who should come in but old Blakeford, and he said gruffly 
that they couldn’t spare me, and, ‘ Can’t spare me ! ’ I says ; ‘ well, 
you jest must, for iV going.’ 

^ Then we shan’t pay you your wages,’ says old Blakeford. 
^ Then I will make you,’ says I, * So now then. I’m not going to 
have people die for want of help, to please you.’ 

^ Who is it then as is dying F ’ says Mrs. Blakeford. 

" * It’s my sweetheart, mum, if you must know, I says. 

" ^ Then all I can say is, that it’s very indelicate of you, a young 
unmarried woman, to go up and nurse a single man.’ 

^ No more indelicate, mum,’ I says, * than for you to want me 
to uuss Mr. Blakeford when he was ill.’ 

‘‘ ^ But you didn’t do it,’ she says. 

* No, mum,’ I says, * but you wanted me to, and what’s more, 
if the whole world and his wife come to me and told me it wasn’t 
right for me to go, I should go ; so now then.’ 

‘^^But when will you come back then, Mary?’ says Mrs. 
Blakeford. 

“ ‘ Not at all, mum,’ I says, ^ for after going and nursing a 
single man as is dying for aught I know, I shan’t be fit company 
for the folks in this house. I’m going now directly, mum, and I 
shall leave my box and send for it and my wages too.’ ” 

Here Mary had another look at the patient and the cooking. 

I wasn’t long getting off, I can tell you, and glad enough I 
was to get away. I’d ha’ left long enough ago, only I didn’t want 
to make any more changes till the big one, and there was only 
one as I minded leaving.” 

And that was little Hetty,” I said, as I understood her big 
change to mean her marriage. 

Yes, my dear, you’re right — ^little Hetty ; and she came and 
sobbed and cried ever so, with her dear arms round my neck, till 
I told her that perhaps I might see you, and asked her if I might 
take you her love ; and she sent it to you, and said she always 
wore your brooch.” 

And is she quite well .P ” I said, with sparkling eyes. 

“ Yes, and grows the neatest, prettiest, best girl that ever was. 
And now, my dear, I’m come to miss my pore William. till he’s 
well, and then ” 


HOW MAEY BROKE DOWN. 


167 


** Yes, Mary P ” for she bad paused. 

** I shall get a place somewhere in London ; for I shan’t go back.” 

Then, after another look at the patient, she came hack to me. 

" Could you drink a cup o’ tea, dear ? ” she said. 

** Yes, Mary, and you must want something.” 

^^Well, my dear, I do begin to feel a bit faint, for I hadn’t 
only just begun my breakfast when your letter came, and I 
haven’t had nothing since.” 

The result was that the kettle was soon made to boil, and Mary 
seemed quite delighted to be pouring out for me and making the 
toast. 

Lor’, my dear, now it do seem like old times ! ” she cried. 

Only you’ve grown to look so handsome and well, Mary,” 
I said. 

Do I, my dear P Well, I am glad. Not as I care myself, 
but some people might. But, Lor’, I never looked well down 
at old Blakeford’s. My ! what a row there was because you run 
away.” 

“ Was there P ” I said with a shudder, half pleasure, half 
delight. 

Warn’t there P ” said Mary, who kept running to the bedside 
at the slightest movement. “ Bless your ’art, old Blakeford was 
nearly mad, and Miss Hetty ’most cried her eyes out, till I 
told her you’d be happier away, and then she cried ’em out more 
than ever, for fear her par should catch you. He was out 
days and days, until his leg got so bad he was really obliged to go 
to bed. The dog bit him, you know, the night you run away. 
Then there was the upset before the magistrates, and that 
Mr. Wooster somehow managed to get the day, because master — 
I mean old Blakeford — hadn’t got the right witness. And that 
made master — I mean old Blakeford — worse. And now I don’t 
think I’ve any more to tell you, only you ain’t half eating your 
toast. My sakes ! it do put me in mind of old times, for it was 
precious dull when you was gone.” 

Were you cross with me for running away, Mary ?” 

I was then, for not telling me, but I soon got to think it was 
quite right.’' 

I hope it was, Mary,” I said; ^^but did you ever see old Mr. 
EowleP” 

“ What, that yellow little man P oh, of tens ; he used to come 
and talk to me about you, and when I said you was very ungrate- 
ful for running away, he used to stick up for you. He didn’t 
come very often, though,” continued Mary, correcting herself, 

because he couldn’t smoke in my kitchen, else I believe he’d 
have come every night to talk about you.” 

A slight moan from poor Revitts took Mary to the bedside, and 
very soon after she insisted upon my lying down and going to 


163 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


sleep a bit, and when I awoke the next morning, Mary was look- 
ingas fresh and wakeful as ever. 

I don’t know to this day how Mary manag’ed, for she never 
seemed to close an eye, but to be always watching over her pore 
boy,” When I talked about her going to bed, she only laughed, 
and said that ** a good nuss never wanted no sleep.” 

** And now, my dear, you’ve been kep’ away from your work,” 
she said ; “ so, as soon as you’ve had your breakfast, you be off. I 
can manage till you come back. I don’t hold with neglecting 
nothing.” 

She would not hear of opposition, so I left her the field, 
and went down to the office, where I saw Mr. Hallett looking very 
pale and stern, and soon after I was at my old work, reading 
to Mr. Jabez Rowle, who seemed very glad to see me back, com- 
plimenting me on my reading, by saying I was not quite so stupid 
as my substitute had been. 

When I returned to Caroline Street, I found Mary in consulta- 
tion with the landlady, who then descended, and, to my great 
delight, Revitts was, if anything, better. 

Mary was very glad to see me back, and began to unfold 
her plans, to wit, that she had found that the front room was 
to let furnished, and she had taken it of Mrs. Keswick, the land- 
lady, for my use. 

“ It will be better for all of us, my dear,” she said, " so just you 
hold your tongue.” 

I sat up late with Mary that night, and the next, and the next, 
talking about the past and the future, and still she seemed to get 
no sleep ; but she always laughed about it, and declared that she 
went to sleep with one eye at a time. Be that as it may, a more 
patient, untiring nurse man never had, and right through 
poor Revitts’ weary state of delirium she was always by his 
pillow, always smiling and cheerful through the worst crisis, till, 
one night, when I returned to be met by her on the stairs ; and, 
finger on lips, she led me into the front room, to fall on my neck, 
and silently sob as if her heart would break- 

‘‘ Oh, Mary, Mary ! ” I said, “ he’s worse ; and I thought he 
seemed so much stronger this morning.” 

“ No, no, dear,” she sobbed, “ he’s better. He opened his eyes 
this afternoon and knowed me^ and said : ‘ Ah, Mary, old gal, is 
that you ? ’ ” 

Poor woman 1 The pent-up suffering that had been longing to 
burst forth, and which had all been hidden behind her mask 
of smiles, had come pouring out, and for the next half-hour Mary 
sobbed and wept in a quiet way till I was in despair. Then, to 
my surprise, she got up in a business-like manner, wiped her 
eyes, and smiled once more. 

** There I ” she exclaimed, “ I’m better now." 


COMINO OFF. i 


169 


CHAPTER XXXIL 

COMING OPT. 

With Revitts better there was no occasion for me to stop in 
of an evening, and as soon as I could I went on to the Halletts’, 
where I was warmly welcomed by the whole family. Mrs. Hallett 
had a string of troubles to tell me, and interspersed with them I 
had narratives of how different matters used to be. 

Linny was very affectionate and kind, but I could see that she 
looked pale and troubled. Her pretty face lighted up though, 
whenever her brother spoke, and I noted the air of satisfaction in 
Hallect’s face as he realized how his sister was keeping to her 
promise. 

“ Well, Antony,” he said cheerily, as soon as Mrs. Hallett had 
retired, which was always before nine, Linny going away to 
attend upon her. ** What do you say : shall we go and look 
at the model 

Yes,” I said eagerly ; “ IVe been longing to have another tu»a 
at it.” 

You are not wearied out then?” 

" Wearied out P ” I cried, laughing ; ** no, and 1 never shall be 
till I see it a success.” 

He sighed, but there was a smile upon his lip at the same time ; 
and leading the way upstairs, we were soon busy over the model. 

I saw at a glance that it had remained untouched, covered with 
the black cloth, ever since that unfortunate morning, so that I did 
not need his confirming words as he spoke : 

“ I thought I would leave it till you came.” 

That night and many more were taken up in separating 
and repairing the broken parts of the little piece of mechanism, 
and then came the difficult task — how to contrive so that it should 
not again break down. 

The days flew by and became weeks, and the weeks months, 
but still the problem was not solved. Experiment after experi- 
ment was tried without effect, audit seemed as if Hallett’s clever 
brain could only bring the work up to a certain point. Then 
it required the powers of a second brain to carry it on to 
perfection. 

Meanwhile Revitts had gradually recovered, and more than 
once related to Mary and me how, on that unfortunate night, he 
had been attracted by a slight scuffle and a woman’s cry ; that he 
had run up, and the woman had clung to him, which so enraged 
the man that he had struck him with the heavy stick that he 
carried, and that was all. 


170 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ Should you know the woman again ? ” I asked, feeling very 
guilty as the possessor of Linny’s secret. 

“ No,” he said. She was only a little thing, quite a girl, and 
she had her veil down ; hut I should know tlie man, and if ever 
I do get hold of him, if I don’t give him a wunner my name ain’t 
Revitts.*’ 

He was still too ill to resume his duties, but he used to go out 
for a walk every day, leaning on Mary’s arm, Mary herself now 
taking to the room that had been engaged ostensibly for me. 

‘‘ It’s a-coming off, Antony,” said Revitts to me one night, when 
I had returned from the office in high glee ; for I had received a 
note from Miss Carr, saying that she wished to see me the next 
day, she having just returned to town with her sister from a long 
round of visits, following a tour on the Continent. 

Coming off ? ” I said, looking from him to Mary and back. 

Don’t you take any notice of his nonsense,” cried Mary, run- 
ning her arm up to the elbow in one of Revitts’ stockings. 

‘‘ ’Tain’t nonsense,” said Revitts, rubbing his hands softly ; it’s 
a-coming off soon as ever I’m quite well.” 

’Tain’t,” said Mary tartly. I’m going to take another place 
as soon as ever you’re fit to leave.” 

“ Yes, my dear, so you are,” said Revitts, smiling at me in a soft, 
smooth, sheepish way ; ** a place as you won’t never leave no more.” 

It’s all stuff. Master Antony, and I’m not,” cried Mary. 

Tantrums won’t save you from it now, my dear,” said Revitts, 
shaking his head and pointing to the wall. *^I says to myself as 
soon as ever I began to be able to think again, and see that there 
shawl and bonnet a-hanging so comfortable-like up again my great- 
coat and hat — I says to myself, I says, she’s hung up her bonnet 
now and give in, and it can be Mrs. William Revitts as soon as 
ever I like.” 

It’s all stuff and nonsense, I tell you. Don’t listen to him, 
Master Antony.” 

That ain’t a real tantrum,” said Revitts, rubbing his hands; 
“she’s give in — she’s give in.” 

“ I declare I wouldn’t have come a-nigh you, Bill, if I’d knowed 
you’d go on like that before Master Antony,” cried Mary, who 
was perfectly scarlet. 

“ Master Antony’s a gentleman,” said Revitts, “ and he bears 
witness that you’ve give in ; and, tantrums or no tantrums,” he 
cried, bringing his hand down upon the table with a bang, “ you 
don’t go away no more. Look at that 1 ” 

He took a blue official envelope from his pocket and opened it, 
took out a letter, and smoothed it upon his knee. 

That’s dictation, that is, Antony. That’s what that is,” he 
cried, holding up his chin, and giving his head an official roll, as 
if to settle it in a stock that he was not wearing. 


I HAVE ANOTHER LESSON IN LOVE. 


171 


" Why, where did you get that letter ? ” cried Mary. 

** Brought me this afternoon while you was out shopping,” said 
Revitts triumphantly. Look here, Antony, that ainT c^Aected 
to P.C. Revitts, that ain’t;” and he handed me the envelope, 
which I read aloud ; 

“ * To Sergeant Revitts, VV Division, Caroline Street, Penton- 
ville.’” 

“ ‘ Sergeant Revitts ! ’ ” he said, rising and buttoning up his 
coat, hut pausing to reach down his stiff, shiny stock and buckle 
it on. “ ‘ Sergeant Revitts,’ if you please ; and if,” he said, 
walking up and down the room excitedly, “ it ain’t Inspector 
Revitts some day, and after that Sooperintendent and a sword, 
my name ain’t Bill.” 

Hurrah ! ” I cried ; " I am glad ; ” and then I caught his arm, 
for, poor fellow, he was very weak yet, and needed the chair 
Mary placed for him to sit down. 

“ And you so ill and weak still, and talking about such stuff,” 
she cried hastily. 

I’m getting round fast enough,” said Revitts ; it was only 
the ^ sergeant ’ took my breath away a bit; that’s all. It’s all 
right, Antony. It’s a-coming off, ain’t it, Mary, my dear ? ” 

“ I am glad, Bill. But they couldn’t have made a better man 
a sergeant if they’d tried,” said Mary evasively. 

“1 said it was a-coming off,” said Revitts, ain’t it?” 

He leaned forward, and looked at Mary ; she, with the stocking 
on one arm, and the long darning-needle in her hand, held it as if 
to keep him off. I saw Mary’s scarlet face gradually raised till 
her eyes met his, and then a soft, foolish-looKing smile began to 
dawn upon one corner of her lips, pass over to the other, and 
gradually make them open to show her white teeth, before run- 
ning right up, and half-closing her eyes. The same kind of smile, 
but much larger, appeared on Revitts’ face ; and there they sat, 
smiling at one another, till I took up my cap and went out — even 
my exit being unnoticed— for another good servant was veritably 
lost to society. Mary’s tantrums ” were at an end. 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

I HAVE ANOTHER LESSON IN LOVE. 

I FELT rather nervous about asking for leave, but summoning up 
courage the next day, I knocked at the principal’s door, and Mr. 
Ruddle’s voice bade me come in. 

Well, Grace,” he said, nodding to me pleasantly, I wanted 
to see you.” 




172 THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

I looked at him wonderingly. 

** Only to say how glad I was to hear such a good account of 
you from Mr. llowle.” 

‘‘ Thank you, sir.” 

“But Mr. Grimstone doesn’t give you much praise,” he con- 
tinued, with rather a droll look in his eyes ; “ so Tm ^raid you 
are a very ordinary sort of boy after all. Well, what do you 
want ? ” 

“ I had a note from Miss Carr, sir, saying she would like to see 
me to-day. Can I he spared ? ” 

“ Oh yes, certainly —certainly,” said the old gentleman. “ And 
look here, my man, you’ve made a good friend in that lady. Try 
and deserve it — deserve it.” 

“ I will trj^, sir,” I said. 

“ That’s right,” he said ; “ and try hard. — Well, Grimstone, 
what is it ? ” 

The overseer looked from me to his principal and hack again, 
before rustling some papers in his hand in an ill-used way. 

“ It’s very hard on me, sir, that more attention isn’t paid to the 
business. Here are you and me toiling and moiling all day long 
to keep the customers right, and Mr, John at races and steeple- 
chases, and Lord knows what — anything but the business ! ” 

“ You’re always grumbling, Grimstone,” said Mr. Huddle testily. 
“ Here, let me see. — You needn’t wait, Grace, you can go.” 

I thanked him and hurried off, leaving the two immersed in 
some business matters, and thinking of nothing else now but my 
visit. 

There was a warm welcome for me at Westmouth Street, and 
Miss Carr’s eyes looked bright and satisfied, 1 thought; but I 
could not help seeing that she was paler and thinner than when 
I saw her last. 

“Well, Antony,” she said, after seating me beside her; “it 
seems an age since we met. What have you been doing P ” 

I told her — busy at the office, and also about Mr. Revitts. 

“Y'es,” she said thoughtfully. “1 was in the neighbourhood 
of Rowford last month, and I ” 

“ You were down there ? ” I said eagerly. 

“ Yes, Antony, and I had a long chat with the old clergyman 
there, when he visited my friends. He knew your father and 
mother.” 

“ Oh yes,” I said, as a flood of recollections came back. 

“ And he asked me very kindly about you, saying he thought 
Mr. Blakeford had behaved very badly to Mr. Grace.” 

“ I mean to pay Mr. Blakeford every penny my dear father 
owed him,” I said, flushing, and getting up from the couch. “ He 
8}iall not dare to speak ill of the dead.’^ 

Miss Carr looked at me curiously, and I thought her manner 


I HAVE ANOTHER LESSON IN LOVE. 


173 


was more tender to me as she took my hand and once more drew 
me to her side. 

About this Mr. Revitts, Antony,” she said; I think the time 
has come now when you should have different lodgings.” 

Oh, Miss Carr I ” I exclaimed, he has been so kind to me, 
such a good friend ; and now poor Mary has come up, and they 
are going to be married, and Mary would be terribly disappointed 
if I went to lodge anywhere else. He’s Sergeant Revitts now : 
he has been promoted.” 

‘Of Mr. and Mrs. Revitts set up a home of their own, that would 
be different,” she said thoughtfully. “ But in your new position, 
Antony, you ought to be better provided for than while you were 
at the office.” 

“ In my new position ? ” I said, hesitating. 

“ Yes,’’ she said, smiling; and as I gazed in her face I thought 
what a happy man Mr. Lister must be. “ You said you would 
like to be an engineer, when I saw you last.” 

“ Oh yes,” I said, “ and then I could help Mr. Hallett with his 
model.” 

There was a little spot of colour in each of her cheeks as I 
spoke, and a slight knitting of her brows ; but she went on : 

“I have consulted Mr. Ruddle, who has spoken to the pro- 
prietors of a large engineering firm, and they have engaged to 
take you as a pupil.” 

“ Oh, Miss Carr ! ” I cried. 

“ But understand, Antony, that it is not merely sitting in an 
office and handling pen and drawing instruments : as I under- 
stand, the pupils have to learn to use lathe and tool, so as to 
thoroughly understand their profession. Shall you mind that ? ” 

“ Mind it ? ” I said. “ Do you think I mind dirtying my 
hands ? Why, my father liad a regular workshop, where we used 
to make and mend. Besides, if I learn all that, I can help Mr. 
Hallett.” 

“ Antony,” she said, in a weary, half-annoyed way, “ don’t talk 
to me of Mr. Hallett. My dear boy, you must not be a hero- 
worshipper.” 

“I don’t know what a hero-worshipper is,” I said, feeling hurt; 
“but Mr. Hallett has been so good to me that it would be 
ungrateful if I did not love and respect him.” 

The two little spots of colour came in her cheeks again, and 
there was a strange twitching of her brows. 

“ Kinder to you than Mr. Revitts ? ” she said softly. 

“Oh, he’s not like William Revitts,” I said eagerly. “I can’t 
quite explain it ; he’s so different. I like Revitts, but I always 
seem to have to teach him. Mr. Hallett teaches me, Miss Carr, 
I think he will be a great man.” 

“ You foolish boy I ” she cried, in a nervous, excited way. 


174 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


" There, then ; it is settled. You will go and see Mr. Girtley, at 
his office in Great George Street, Westminster, and you may bid 
adieu to the printing-office, and make your first start towards 
being a professional man as soon as ever you like.” 

“ I — I can never be grateful enough to you. Miss Carr,” I said, 
in a trembling voice. 

Oh yes, my dear boy, you can. Work on and succeed, and 
you will more than repay me.” 

Then I snail soon be out of debt,” I said joyfully. 

“ I hope so, Antony,” she said sadly ; but don’t be too 
sanguine. — Yes ? ” 

Mr. Lister, ma’am,” said the servant who had entered. 
would be glad if you would see him for a few minutes.” 

Did— did you tell him I was not alone?” said Miss Carr, 
whose face seemed to have turned cold and stem. 

“ No, ma’am, I only took his message.” 

Show Mr. Lister up,” she said, in a quiet dignified way ; and, 
as the footman left the room — “ Go in there, Antony, and wait 
until Mr. Lister has gone. He will not stay long.” 

She pointed to the folding-doors that opened into a larger 
drawing-room, followed me, and pointing to a table covered with 
books, returned, leaving the door ajar. 

The various illustrated books were no little attraction, but the 
thought of becoming an engineer, and perhaps being of service to 
Mr. Hallett, kept me from looking at them, and the next moment 
I heard the little drawing-room door open, and Mr. Lister’s 
voice, every word being perfectly audible. 

Ah, my dear Miriam!” he exclaimed; ^^why, my dear girl, 
you look quite pale.” 

I felt very guilty, and as if I were listening purposely to the 
words passing in the next room ; so, taking up a book, I tried to 
read it, but in spite of my efforts every word came plain and 
clear, and I heard all. 

" I have been a little unwell,” said Miss Carr quietly. 

My poor girl ! ” he said tenderly. “ Ah, you have been away 
too much ! Miriam, dear, I want you to listen to me to-day. 
When am I to make you my prisoner, and keep you from these 
errant ways P ” 

There was no reply, and a dead silence seemed to fall, 

^^Why, Miriam, darling,” said Mr. Lister, in a tender voice, 
**you are more unwell than I thought, for; why not have 
advice P ” 

“ No, no,” she said hastily. “ I am quite well, indeed, John.” 

Then why are you so cold and strange and distant ? Have I 
offended you, darling ? ” 

“ Oh no, John ; indeed, no.” 

“ I could not visit you more frequently, Miriam. I could not 


I HAVE ANOTHER LESSON IN LOVE. 


175 


join yon abroad, for, as you know, my circumstances are only 
moderate, and I have to keep very, very close to the business. 
Huddle does not spare me much. Are you annoyed because you 
think I slight you ? ” 

^^Oh no, no, John — indeed no.” 

Yes, that is it,” he cried ; “ you think I ought to have come 
down when you were staying at Rowford.” 

“Can you not believe me, John,” she said coldly, “when I tell 
you that there are no grounds for such a charge ? You ought to 
know me better now.” 

“I do know you better, my own, my beautiful darling,” he 
cried passionately; “but you drive me nearly mad. We have 
been engaged now so many weary months, and yet I seem to 
occupy no warmer position in your heart than when I first met 
you. It is dreadful ! ” 

I heard him get up and walk about the room, while she sat 
perfectly silent. 

“You rebuff me,” he cried angrily. “You are cold and distant; 
my every advance is met by some chilly look. Good heavens I 
Miriam, are we engaged to be man and wife, or not ? ” 

You are unjust, J^ohn, in your anger,” said Miss Carr in her 
low, sweet voice. “ I do not rebuff you, and I am never inten- 
tionally cold. Indeed, I try to meet you as the man who is to be 
my husband.” 

And lover ? ” he said, with an almost imperceptible sneer. 

“ As my husband,” she said quietly ; “ a holier, greater title far 
than that of lover. We are not girl and boy, John Lister, and I 
do not think that you would love and respect me the more for 
acting like some weak, silly school-girl, who does not know her 
own mind.” 

“ She would at least be warmer in her love.” 

“ But not nearly so lasting,” said Miss Carr, in a low, almost 
pathetic voice. “ I look upon our engagement as so sacred a 
thing that I think we ought not to hurry on our marriage as 
you wish. Besides, was it not understood that we should wait 
awhile ? ” 

“Yes; that was when some tattling fool told you about my 
losses over that race, and I suppose made out that I was in a 
hurry to win the heiress, so as to make ducks and drakes of her 
money.” 

“ You hurt me,” she said softly; “no one ever hinted at such 
a degrading idea.” 

“Just when a fellow had gone into the thing for once in a way. 
Of course I was unlucky, and a good job too. If I had won I 
might have been tempted to try again. Now I have done with 
racing and betting and the rest of it for ever.” 

“ I had not thought of that affair, J ohn, when I spoke u I 


176 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


did. I promised you I would forget it, and I had forgotten it, 
believe me.” 

“ Oh yes, of course,” he said bitterly. 

“ I am speaking frankly and openly to you, John,” continued 
Miss Carr gently ; and I want you to think as I do, that, in 
taking so grave a step as that which joins two people together for 
life, it should be taken only as one makes a step from which there 
is no recall.” 

“ Miriam ! ” he exclaimed, and he seemed to stop short in front 
of her, “ I am a hot, impetuous fellow, and I love you ;^assion- 
ately, as you know, and have known since the day when hrst we 
met. Have I ever given up the pursuit ? ” 

^^No,” she said, half-laughingly. You did not let me rest, 
nor did our friends, until we were engaged.” 

, “Of course not. There, come now, you look more like your 
own dear self. I want to ask you a question.” 

Yes, John. What is it ? ” 

He cleared his voice and hesitated, but only to speak out firmly 
at last. 

“ Do you think — have you ever thought me such a cur that I 
wanted you for the sake of your money ? ” 

John, this is the second time that you have brought «tp my 
fortune to-day. There is no need to answer such a question.” 

“But I beg — I desire — I insist upon knowing,” he cried 
passionately. 

“ You have your answer in the fact that you are standing 
before me talking as you are. If I believed for an instant that 
you had such sordid thoughts, our engagement would be at an 
end. I would sooner give you the money than be your wife.” 

“ Of course, yes : of course, my own dear, noble girl ! ” he cried 
excitedly. “ Then why all this waiting — why keep me at arm’s 
length ? Come now, darling, let us settle it at once.” 

“ No, John,” she said calmly. “ I cannot yet consent.” 

“Your old excuse,” he cried, striding up and down the room. 

“ I never held out hopes to you that it would be soon,” she 
replied ; and I felt that she must be looking at him wistfully. 

“ But why — why all this waiting, dear ? ” he said, evidently 
struggling with his anger, and striving to speak calmly. 

“ I have told you again and again, dear John, my sole reason.” 

“ And what is that ? ” he said bitterly ; “ it must have been so 
trifling that I forget it.” 

“ You do not forget it, indeed,” she said tenderly. “ I ask you 
to wait, because I wish, when I marry you, to be sure that I am 
offering you a true and loving wife.” 

“ Oh, if that’s all,” he said laughingly, “ I’m satisfied as you are ; 
and on my soul, Miriam, I wish you had not a penny, so that all 
ideas of self-interest might be set aside I ” 


I HAVE ANOTHER LESSON IN LOVE. 


177 


*^They are set a/ide, dear JoLn/’ she said calmly. 

“Well then, love, let there be an end to this miserable 'waiting 
and disappointment. If I did not kno'w thoroughly your s'weet 
disposition, and that you are so far above all silly coquettish ways, 
I should say that you were trifling with me, to make me more 
eager for the day.'’ 

“ You know me better.” 

“I do, my darling,” he said in a low impassioned voice, which 1 
heard quite plainly, though I had gone to the window and was 
looking out into the street. “ Then let us settle it at once. I am 
in your hands, Miriam, as I have been from the day I first set eyes 
upon you. At present I am wretched — miserable — my whole 
thoughts are of you, and I feel at times half-mad — that I cannot 
wait. Do you wish to torture me ? ” 

“ No.” 

“ Then he my dear honoured wife in a week’s time — a fortnight .P 
What, still shaking your head ? Well, then, there : I am the 
most patient of lovers — in a month from to-day ? ” 

“ No, no, I cannot,” she said ; and in place of being so calm she 
spoke now passionately. “ You must wait, dear John, you must 
wait.” 

“ Then there is something,” he cried, in a low, angry voice. 
“ Some wretch has been maligning me.” 

“ Indeed no.” 

“ You have been told that I am wasteful and a spendthrift ? ” 

“ I should not have listened to any such charge.” 

“ Then that I am weak, and untrustworthy, and gay ? ” 

“ I should have told anyone who hinted such a thing that it was 
a lie.” 

“ Then,” he cried hoarsely, “ there is some one else ; you have 
seen some one you like better I ” 

John 1 Mr. Lister ! You hurt my wrist.” 

“ You do not answer me,” he cried, his voice growing more 
hoarse and intense, while I stood there with my heart palpitating, 
feeling as if I ought to run to Miss Carr’s help. 

“ I will not answer such a question,” she said angrily ; ** but I 
will tell you this : that I have looked upon myself as your be- 
trothed wife ; do not make me think upon our engagement with 
regret.” 

“ Forgive me, Miriam, pray forgive me,” he said in a low, plead- 
ing voice. “ It is my wretched temper that has got the better of 
me. Say you forgive me, Miriam, or I shall be ready to make an 
end of myself. There, there, don’t take away this little hand.” 

“ Leave mo now, I beg of you,” she said in a low, pained voice. 

“ Yes, directly, sweet,” he whispered ; “ but let there be an end 
of this, my darling. Say — in a month’s time — you will be my 
wife, and then I shall know I am forgiven.’’ 


12 


178 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


I forgive you your cruel, passionate words, John,” sbe said, in 
such a tone that I began once more to look out of the window, 
wondering whether Mrs. John Lister would be as kind to me as 
Miss Carr. 

And, in a month to-day, you will make me a happy man ? ** 

“ I cannot promise that,’' she said after a pause. 

Yes, yes, you can, dearest — my own love 1 ” he cried ; and I 
felt now as if I should like to open the window and step out on the 
balcony. 

No, I cannot promise that, John,” she repeated. You must 
— we must wait.” 

“ Then it is as I say,” he cried, evidently springing up from her 
feet, and stamping up and down the room. “ You are a cruel, 
cold, heartless girl, and I’ll come begging and pleading no more. 
Our engagement holds good,” he said bitterly ; “ and you shall 
name the day yourself, and we shall be a happy pair, unless I have 
blown out my brains before we’re wed.” 

I heard the little drawing-room door close loudly, descending 
steps, and then the front-door shut almost with a bang, and from 
where I stood I saw Mr. Lister, looking very handsome and well 
dressed, with a bouquet in his button-hole, stride hastily down the 
street, cutting at imaginary obstacles with his cane, and as he 
turned the corner I heard from the next room a low moan, and 
Miss Carr’s voice, saying : 

^^God help and teach me I I am a wretched woman 1 How 
shall I act?* 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

I TAKE THE NEWS TO MY FRIENDS. 

Wretched ! ” I thought, ‘‘ in the midst of wealth, and loved 
by that passionate, handsome man.” Then I recalled how I had 
often heard of lovers’ quarrels, and supposed that this was one that 
would soon be made up. 

I felt very uncomfortable, and wondered what I ought to do. 
There was a deep silence in the next room that became painful, 
and I wondered whether Miss Carr had gone ; but directly after 
I heard such a low bitter sobbing that it went to my heart, and, 
unable to bear it longer, I went to the door, looked in, and saw 
her half-lying on the couch, with her face buried in the pillow, 
weeping bitterly. 

I hesitated for a moment, and then went in unheard over the 
soft thick ca]-pet, and kneeling down, I took the inert hand hang- 
ing down, and kissed it. 


I TAKE THE NEWS TO MY FEIENDS. 


179 


In a moment she stood up with pale and angry face, flinging me 
off as if I had stung her. 

“ Oh, Antony, my hoy ; is it you ? ” she cried ; and flinging her 
arms round me, she let lier head fall upon my shoulder, and wept 
passionately and long, while I tried to utter some feeble platitude 
to soothe her. . 

The storm passed off suddenly, and she wiped her swollen 
eyes. 

“ I had forgotten that you were there, Antony,” she said. I 
have had a great trouble.” 

She spoke with her face averted, and she was trying now to 
remove the traces of her tears. 

** You could not hear what was said P ” she asked. 

“ Yes, Miss Carr. I did not wish to, but I heard every word.” 
«OhI” 


She turned her wild eyes upon me, and her pale face flushed 
crimson as she rose to leave the room, hurrying away and leaving 
me wondering whether I ought to go. 

I had just concluded that I ought, and, taking up a sheet of 
paper, I had written a few lines saying how very sorry I was that 
1 had been an unwilling listener, when she came back with her 
hair re-arranged, and looking pale and calm. 

Were you writing to me, Antony ? ” she said. 

** Yes, Miss Carr.” 

** Let me see.” 

She read that which I had written, and smiled sadly. Then, 
tearing up the note, she took my hand and led me once more to 
the couch. 

I am sorry that you heard what passed, Antony,” she said ; 
“ but since I have known you, I have gradually grown to look 
upon you as a friend as well as a proUge ; you have told me your 
little history, and every time I have seen you, you have shown me 
the fruit of the teachings of those to whom you were very dear. 
I feel quite happy in knowing that you, as the son of a gentleman, 
Antony, will hold all that you have heard quite sacred.” 

** If you will only believe in and trust me,” I cried. 

do believe in and trust you, Antony,” she said warmly. 
‘‘Now I am going to ask you to leave me, and come again to- 
morrow, after you have been to the engineer’s office. I am not 
well, and I should be glad to be alone.” 

I rose, and as she held out her hand I took it and kissed it 
reverently — so reverently, that she drew me to her, and touched 
my forehead with her lips. 

“ Go now, Antony,” she said, “ and I think it will be better that 
you should not return to the printing-office. I will arrange with • 
Mr. Ruddle about that. A letter from me will be sufficient. And 
look here, Antony : you will come here to me every Saturday, and 


12—2 


180 


THE STOHY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


Sunday too, if you like. You need stand upon no ceremony — tut 
come. You will not be sorry to leave the office ? ” 

Oh no,” I said ; but I shall regret leaving Mr. Hallett.” 

I thought it was fancy then, as I seemed to see a spasm shoo^ 
through her. She said no more to me, but pressed something into 
my hand, and I went downstairs. 

I felt very proud as I made my way along the streets, wonder- 
ing what was in the packet Miss Carr had given me, and longing 
for an opportunity to open it. 

The park seemed the most suitable place, and, making my way 
there, I lay down on the soft turf in a secluded place, opened the 
packet, and found in it a letter and a purse containing two five- 
pound notes. 

The letter was dated the night before, and it was very brief : 
My dear Antony, 

have thought that you may need several things in 
commencing your new life, and as I wish you to appear as a 
gentleman’s sou who means to work earnestly, I should provide 
serviceable clothes. I leave the rest to your common sense and 
discretion. 

** Yours affectionately, 

' ** Miriam Carr.” 

" My dear Antony,” " yours affectionately,” I repeated to my- 
seK ; and as I lay there, after safely placing the note and purse in 
my pockets, I wished earnestly that the dead could know and 
thank one who had so evidently my welfare at heart. 

Mary soon knew of my good fortune, but did not seem at all 
surprised. 

“ No, my dear, it’s nothing more than nateral,” she said, as I 
partook of tea with her ; and in her afiection for me she tried 
very hard to make me bilious with the amount of butter in which 
she soaked my toast. You being a gentleman’s son, and having 
had a par and a mar, it was no more than one might expect, for 
gentlefolks to take notice of you. That Miss Carr’s a real lady, 
and I shouldn’t wonder if she was to leave you no end of money 
when she died.” 

** Oh, Mary 1 ” I cried, “ just as if I wanted Miss Carr to die 
and leave me her money. I mean to earn some for myself, and 
when I get rich, you and Eevitts shall come and live with me.” 
That we will,” said Mary. “ I’ll be your cook. Master Antony 

and Bill shall be — shall be ” 

Bailiff and steward.” 

** Or else gardener,” she said. So you’re going to buy some 
new clothes, are you ? ” 

** Yes, Mary ; I must go well dressed to the engineer’s.” 


I TAKE THE NEWS TO MY FKIENDS. 


181 


Then I should buy two more suits,” said Mary eagerly. 
** Have a good dark blue for Sundays, with gilt buttons, and for 
every day have invisible green.” 

I shook my head. 

** No, I must have black still, Mary, and grey,” I said. 

I wouldn’t dear ; I’d have blue, and as for invisible green, you 
wouldn’t know as it wasn’t black.” 

However, Mary came to my way of thinking, and my choice of 
new things was in no wise outrS. 

I seemed to be plunged into a perfect atmosphere of love just 
then, for I left Revitts smiling foolishly at Mary, whose face re- 
flected the lover as perfectly as a mirror, and went on to Hallett’s, 
where I unconsciously found myself mixed up with another 
trouble of the kind. 

I have grown wiser since, but in those days it was a puzzle to 
me why people could not be friends and fond of one another with- 
out plunging into such heart-breaking passionate ways, to their 
own discomfort and that of all whom they knew. 

I was rather later than usual at the Halletts’, and on going up- 
stairs, full of my good news, I found that Mrs. Hallett was in bed, 
and Linny with her brother. 

I ran up, tapped, and went in according to my custom, and then 
drew back for it was evident that something was wrong, but 
Hallett called me to stay. 

We have no secrets from you, Antony,” he said excitedly. 
** You know what has taken place from the first, and you are as 
much Linny’s friend as mine.’’ 

“ Then if he is,” cried Linny, stamping her little foot, “ I’ll 
appeal to him.” 

Why, Linny,” I said, “ what is the matter .P ” 

Matter I ” she cried, sobbing passionately, “ have I not given 
up to him in all he wished ? have not I obeyed him and been 
more like a prisoner here than his sister ? And now he is not 
satisfied.^’ 

I am satisfied, my child,” he said kindly. But go on : what 
have I done ? ” 

Done ? ” cried Linny ; wounded me where you knew my heart 
was sore; looked upon my every act with suspicion.” 

“No, my child,’’ he said quietly, as he watched the pretty, 
wilful littie thing more in grief than anger. “ You know how 
these last few weeks, since you have had 



con:fidence in me, and listened to my words.” 

“ Happy 1 ” she cried piteously, and with her hand upon her 
heart. 

“ Yes,” he said ; “ happy till this letter came to-day — a letter 
that has swept all your promises to the winds, and sown dissen- 
sion between us. Once more, will you show me the letter P ” 



182 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ Once more,” cried Linny passionately, no I You assume too 
much. Even if you were my father, you could do no more.” 

I stand to you, my dear child, in the place of your dead 
father. Your honour is as dear to me as it would have been to him.” 

“ My honour ! ” echoed Linny. Stephen, you degrade me, by 
talking in this way before a comparative stranger.” 

“ Antony Grace is not a comparative stranger,” said Hallett 
quietly. ** If he were your own brother he could not have acted 
better to us both. I speak out before him, because I look to 
Antony, boy though he be, to help me to watch over you and pro- 
tect you, since you are so weak.” 

To act as your spy ? ” 

“ No,” he said sadly, we will not degrade ourselves by acting 
as spies, but you force it upon me, Linny, to take stern measures. 
You refuse to show me this letter ? ” 

I do. I would die first I ” cried Linny. * 

My poor child,” he said sadly, “ there is no need. I can read 
it in your transparent little face. You thought, I believe, in the 
first hot sting of your wrong that night, that you had plucked this 
foolish love from your breast ; and so long as he remained silent 
you were at rest. But now he writes to you and says ” 

“ Hush, Stephen 1 You shall not before Antony Grace.” 

** Why not ? ” he cried. “ He says in this letter that he has 
been wretched ever since ; that he begs your pardon for the past ; 
that upon your forgiveness depends his future ; and he implores 
you, by all you hold sacred, to grant him an interview, that he 
may be forgiven.” 

“ Stephen ! ” cried Linny, but he went mercilessly on. 

And the foolish, trusting little heart, unused to the wiles of 
this world, leaped at the words, forgave him on the instant, and a 
brother’s words, her own promises, the vows of amendment, all 
are forgotten,” he said angrily, as his face now grew white and his 
hands clenched, ^^and all for the sake of a man who is an utter 
scoundrel ! ” 

How dare you I ” cried Linny, and the hot passionate blood 
flashed to her little cheeks. Her eyes flamed, her teeth were set, 
and, in an access of rage, she struck her brother across the lips 
with the back of her hand. How dare you call him a scoun- 
drel ? ” she cried. 

‘‘ Because,” said Hallett — ^while I stood by, unutterably shocked 
by the scene, which was the more intense from the low voices in 
which brother and sister spoke, they being in unison on the point 
that Mrs. Hallett should not hear their quarrel — “ because,” said 
Hallett, “ his conduct is that of a villain. While professing love 
for you, he insults you. He tells you you are more dear to him 
than life, and he skulks like a thief and does not show his face. 
K he loved you ” 


1 BUILD A CASTLE IN THE AIE. 


183 


** Love ! What do you know of love ? ” cried Linny passion- 
ately. ** You — you cold-blooded groveller, without soul to wor- 
ship anything greater than that ! ” 

As she spoke, she stood with her head thrown back, looking the 
picture of scorn and rage, as she contemptuously pointed at poor 
tiallett’a model ; while he, weak, nervous, and overwrought, stung 
almost to madness, caught her sharply by the shoulder, and in her 
fear she sank on her knees at his feet. 

<‘My Godl” 


CHAPTER XXXV. 

I BUILD A CASTLE IN THE AIB. 

If ever words were uttered with a wild intensity of fervour, it 
was that awful appeal; and, in the interval that followed, I felt 
my heart beat painfully, while Hallett, with the great drops 
standing on his knotted brow, clutched the IHtle shoulder, so that 
Linny mnched from him. 

“ I cold-blooded — I know naught of love ! ” he whispered 
hoarsely; ^^when, for a year past, my life has been one long- 
drawn agony I I know naught of love, who have had to crush 
down every thought, every aspiration, lest I should be a traitor 
to the man whose bread I eat ! Love? Girl, my life has been a 
torture to me, knowing, as I did, that I was a groveller, as you say, 
and that I must grovel on, not daring to look up to one so far 
above me, that — Heaven help me, what am I saying ? ” he cried, 
looking from one to the other. “ Linny, for our dead father’s 
sake — for the sake of that poor, pain-wrung sufferer below, let 
there be no more of this. Trust me, child. Believe in me. I 
know so much of what you must suffer, that if he, whoever he be, 
prove only true and worthy of you, he shall be welcome here. But 
why raise this barrier between us P See, I am not angry now. It is 
all past. You roused that within me that I could not quell, but I 
am calm again, and, as your brother, I implore you, tell me who 
is this man ? ” 

** I — I cannot,” said Linny, shaking her head. 

** You cannot ? ” 

** No,” she said firmly ; I gave my promise.” 

" That you would not tell me — your own brother ? Your 
mother then ? ” 

“ No, not now,” she said, shaking her head. ** After a time I 
will.” 

Without another word she turned and ran from the room, 
leaving Hallett gazing vacantly before him, as if suffering from 
some snock. 


184 


THE STOEY OF AHTOEY HEACE. 


I went up to him at last. ** Can I help you, Hallett P ” I said ; 
and he turned and gazed at me as if he had not understood my 
words. 

“ Antony,” he said at length, a time hack I should have 
thought it folly to make a friend and confidant of such a boy as 
you; hut I have no man friend: I have shut myself up with those 
two below there, and when I have not been with them my hours 
have been spent here — here,” he said, pointing mockingly at the 
model, ^^with my love, and a strange, coquettish jade she is — is 
she not P But somehow, my boy, we two have drifted together, 
and we are friends, badly coupled as we may seem. You have 
heard what Linny said. Poor child, she must be saved at any 
cost, though I hardly know what course to pursue. There,” he 
said wearily, let it rest for to-night ; sometimes, in the thickest 
wilderness of our lives, a little path opens out where least expected, 
and something may offer itself even here.” 

" I am very, very sorry, Hallett,” I said. 

I know it, my hoy, I know it,” he said hurriedly ; ** but forget 
what you heard me say to-night. I was betrayed into speaking as 
I did by a fit of passion. Forget it, Antony, forget it.” 

I did not answer, and he turned to me. 

** I meant to have had a good work at the model to-night, but 
that little scene stopped it. Now about yourself. You are getting 
a sad truant from the office.” 

He said it in a hesitating manner, and turned his face away 
directly after, but only to dart round in surprise at my next 
words. 

“ I am not coming back to the office any more — but don’t think 
me ungrateful.” 

Not coming back ? ” 

^^,No, Hallett ; Miss Carr sent for me — she has been away — and 
I am to go at once as a pupil to an engineer.” 

He turned his back to me, and I ran to his side : 

"Oh, Hallett,” I cried piteously; "don’t be angry with me. 
I told her I was sorry to go, because you were such a good 
friend.” 

" You told her that, Antony P ” 

" Indeed, indeed I did ; but I thought in being an engineer 1 
might be some day such a help to you, and that it was for the 
best ; and now you are vexed and think me ungrateful.” 

He was silent for a few moments, and then he turned to me and 
look my hands, speaking in a low, husky voice : 

" You must not heed me to-night, Antony,” he said. " You saw 
how upset and strange I was. This affair of Hinny’s, and her 
letter, trouble me more than I care to own. No, no, my dear boy, 
I am not vexed with you, and I do not for a moment think you 
ungrateful.” 


I BUILD A CASTLE IN THE AIR. 


185 


** You do not ! ” I cried joyfully. 

** No, no, of course not. I rejoice to find that you have so good 
and powerful a friend in — Miss Carr. She must be — a truly good 
— woman.” 

** She’s^ everything that’s good and beautiful and kind,” I cried, 
bursting into raptures about her. “ I’m to have books and to go 
there every week, and she trusts to me to try and succeed well in 
my new life. Oh, HaUett, you can’t think how I love her.” 

He laid his hand on my shoulder and gazed with a strange light 
in his eyes upon my eager face. 

** That’s right,” he said. Yes — love her, and never give her 

cause to blush for her kindness to you, my boy.” 

He sat listening to me eagerly as I went on telling him her words, 
describing her home, everything I could think of, but the one sub- 
ject tabooed, and of that I gave no hint, while he, poor fellow, sat 
drinking in what was to him a poisoned draught, and I unwit- 
tingly kept on adding to his pain. 

‘‘ I’m only afraid of one thing,” I said with all a boy’s outspoken 
frankness. 

** And what is that, Antony ? ” 

** I’m afraid that when she is married to Mr. Lister ” 

His hand seemed to press my shoulder more tightly. 

** Yes,” he said in a whisper, “ she is to be married to Mr. 
Lister.” 

** Yes, I knew that the first day I came to the office.” 

*'It is the common talk there,” he said with knitted brows. 
** And what is your fear, Antony ? ” 

** That when she is married to Mr. Lister she will forget all 
about me.” 

You wrong her, boy,” he said almost fiercely ; and I stared 
at his strange display of excitement, for I had not the key then to 
his thoughts, and went on blindly again and again tearing open 
his throbbing wound. 

** You wrong her,” he said. ** Antony, Miss Carr is a woman to 
have won whose esteem is to have won a priceless gem, and he 
who goes farther, and wins her love, can look but for one greater 
happiness — that of heaven.” 

He was soaring far beyond my reach, grovelling young mole 
that I was, and I said in an uneasy way that must have sounded 
terribly commonplace and selfish : 

** You don’t think she will forget me, then P ” 

** No,” he said sternly. There is that in her face which seems 
to say that she is one who never forgets — never forgives. She is 
no common woman, Antony ; be worthy of her trust, and think of 
her name in your prayers before you sleep.” 

I gazed at him curiously, he seemed so strange ; and, noticing 
my uneasy looks, he said in a cheerful voice : 


186 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEAC'E. 


There, we will not talk so seriously any more. You see how 
I trust you, Antony, in return for your confidence in me. Now 
let’s talk of pleasant things. An engineer, eh ? ” 

Yes,” I said, delighted at the change in his conversation. 

“ I am glad of it — heartily glad of it,” he said with kindling 
eyes. “ Linny is right ; I do love and idolize my model, and you 
shall share her love, Antony. Together we will make her the 
queen of models, and if in time, perhaps years hence, I do perfect 
her — nay, if we perfect her — there, you see,” he said playfuUy, 
have no petty jealousies — you will then be engineer enough to 
make the drawings and calculations for the machines that are to 
grow from the model. Is it a bargain, Antony ? ” 

“ That it is,” I cried, holding out my hand, which he firmly 
clasped ; and that night I went back to Eevitts’ walking upon air, 
with my head in a whirl with the fancied noise of the machinery 
made by Hallett and Grace, while, out of my share of the pro- 
ceeds, I was going down to Rowford to pay Mr. Blakeford all my 
father’s debt ; and then — being (juite a man grown — I meant to 
tell him he was a cowardly, despicable scouncfiel, for behaving to 
me aa he did when I was a boy. 


CHAPTER XXXVI. 

MR. JABEZ ROWLE’s MONEY MATTERS. 

Something- like the same sensation came over me when I made 
my way to Great George Street, Westminster, as I had felt on the 
morning when I presented myself at the great printing-office. 
But my nervousness soon passed away on being received by Mr. 
Girtley, a short, broad-shouldered man, with a big head covered 
with crisp, curly grey hair. 

^^Ah,” he said, speaking in a great hurry, you’re Antony 
Grace, our new pupil, are you ? ” 

“Yes, sir.” 

** Miss Carr’s young friend. Knew Carr ; clever, wealthv man.” 
“ Indeed, sir ? ” 

Yes, only had one fault — died twenty years too soon. Been 
a millionaire and a modest man combined. avis, eh P Ha. 

ha, ha! Tom!” 

“ Yes, father.” 

The answer came from an inner office, and a good-looking youth, 
wonderfully like Mr. Girtley, came out with a pencil across his 
mouth, a pen behind his ear, a scale in one hand, and a pair of 
compasses in the other. 

“ This is Antony Grace ; you take charge of him and show him 


MR. JABEZ ROWLE’S MONEY MATTERS. 


187 


about. Take it coolly. Festina lenten you know. I say, Antony 
Grace, what does rara avis mean ? ” 

“ A rare or strange bird, sir.” 

Good lad. Ajid festina lente? ” 

** Hasten slowly, sir.” 

“ Good lad. You’re all right with your Latin, then. I wasn't 
when I began. Had to learn it after I was twenty. Well, I’m 
busy, Tom ; you imderstand ; he’ll be a bit nervous and strange, 
so don’t worry him. Let him take in spoonfuls first. He’U learn 
to drink big draughts later on.” 

“ I’m very busy over those syphon plans, father.” 

Ah, the new syphon. Yes, that must he done. WeU, I’ll set 
Browning to do them.” 

“ I’d — I’d much rather finish them myself,” said the youth. 

** Of course you would. Well, then. I’ll give you a fortnight’s 
extension ; then you can finish them and have plenty of time for 
Antony Grace as well. Take him round the works, and then you 
can go down the river for a run. And, by-th e-way, Tom, go in 
one of the new boats, and tip the engineer. Have a good look at 
those fresh oscillating cylinders, and see whether you think they 
beat ours. I’m off. You were quite punctual, Antony Grace, or you 
wouldn’t have seen me. Always keep your appointments exactly. 
Good morning ; glad to see you. Hope you’ll get on and like the 
business. Work hard at it, and mind this — steady application 
wins. Bring him home to dinner to-night, Tom. Eh ? yes.” 

" Mr. Williamson to see you, sir,” said a clerk. 

“ My compliments to Mr. Williamson, and he must make 
another appointment. He is an hour after the time he named, 
and I am engaged for the rest of the day. Lesson in punctuality, 
Ajitony Grace,” he said, nodding. ^‘I’m off.” 

The door closed after his retreating figure, and Tom and I stood 
staring, probably thinking the same thing, whether we should 
like one another. The result of the scrutiny was satisfactory to 
me, for there was something very pleasant in the young fellow’s 
frank open countenance, and I longed to meet with a companion 
nearly my own age. 

“Well,” he said quietly, “ suppose we have a look round. 1 
shan’t work any more at my plans this morning. This is my 
place,” he continued, taking me into the inner office, where a great 
broad mahogany desk was covered with papers. “You’ll have that 
one ; it was Bailey’s ; he was father’s pupil ; he’s gone out' to 
India on the Great Central.” 

I said, “ Has he ? ” but I had no idea whether the Great Central 
was a ship or a great engine. 

“There are my plans for a self-acting syphon. Those parts 
coloured red are where the vacuum valves will come in, and, of 
course, this lower part takes the place of a steam-pump.” 


188 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Does it ? ” I said, laughing. But I don’t understand it a bit.” 

No, of course not,” he said, laughing too. Well, you’ll soon 
learn. You’ll like father, and we’ll like you if you’ll work well. 
Bailey and he did not get on at all.” 

“ Didn’t Bailey work well ” I said, as a vision of the idle 
apprentice came before my eyes. 

“ Father used to say he was like an engine with a bad stoker, 
lie was either racing, or there was no steam up. He’d work 
furiously for two days, and then he’d idle for a week.” 

“ Mr. Girtley is fond of work, then ? ” 

‘^Father says everyone was meant to work, and life’s too 
short for all we have to do. But he likes play, too. We have a 
cricket-field at home, and a billiard-table, and bowls — all sorts of 
games. Father plays at all of them when he’s at home and isn’t 
gardening. He calls it oiling his machinery and slackening his 
bands. Come along, I’ll show you the factory, and our workshop, 
where you and I will have to work, making models, and then 
we’ll oil our machinery. 

“ Shall w:e have to make models P ” I cried eagerly. 

You will, of course. I’m going to be a lawyer. Father 
thinks the man who is a good engineer is sure to have to invent, 
and if so, he ought to be able to take the tools out of his men’s 
hands, and show them how they should be used. Shall you like 
that P It makes your hands black.” 

Oh, I shan’t mind that,” I said, laughing. “ I shall like it.” 

We went over the office, and then, taking our caps, he showed 
me the way over Westminster Bridge to the great works in 
Lambeth, where steam was puffing and panting, wheels whirring, 
and iron and steel were shrieking as they were bemg tortured 
into shape. 

It was a confusing place, and, after passing the timekeeper’s 
box at the entrance, we seemed to plunge into a kind of Pande- 
monium, where fires glared, and white-hot masses of metal were 
being dragged out and beaten till they sent sparks of brilliant fire 
flying in all directions. From there w^e ascended to a floor where 
wheels were whirring and great machines were at work, with 
men tending them, and pouring oil in the wounds made by mighty 
steam-worked chisels, or bored in pieces of black iron. In one 
place, shavings of iron were curling off before a plane like so 
much soft wood ; and on touching them I found them rigid, and 
hot" with the friction necessary to tear them away. Next we 
were in a higher shop, where lathes were at work, and iron, 
steel, and brass were being turned like so much ivory. Out of 
this great floor was a smaller workshop, whose walls were covered 
with tools ; and on shelves around were dozens of strange models, 
which took my attention strongly as I thought of Hallett’s 
patient work, and longed to begin at something on the spot. 


MR. JABEZ ROWLE’S MONEY MAriEES. 


189 


Here, too, there were lathes, vices, and all the necessary 
paraphernalia for the constructing engineers, and I left the place 
unwillingly to* join young Girtley in his run down the river, 
where, the right steamer being chosen, we had our ride; the 
oscillating engines were examined, and we were back and down at 
Dulwich in good time for dinner and a look round the spacious 
grounds afterwards. 

I returned to Caroline Street full of my day’s adventures, and 
ready to tell Mary of my progress towards prosperity, but, to my 
disappointment, she seemed in nowise dazzled. It was quite a 
matter of course to her, only a question of time before I should be 
a great engineer, and in that faith she was a strong believer. 

Time glided on, and the half-work, half-play system, upoii 
which I had commenced business at Great George Street had in 
the course of a month settled into regular hours, but the work 
did not trouble me, for I led so pleasant a life with Tom Girtley, 
and found his father so eager and willing a teacher, that I quite 
enjoyed the toil. There was the one idea, too, always before my 
mind that some day I should be able to help Hallett, whom I 
joined nearly every night, to pore over and try to scheme some- 
thing new for the machine. 

I could see that matters were in anything but a happy state at 
the Halletts’ — Mrs. Hallett being more complaining and querulous 
than ever, and, it seemed to me, rather disposed to side with 
Linny in her rebellion against her brother’s authority. 

For they were not at one: Linny was pale, excitable, and 
troubled : Hallett, loving, kind, and firm. But from hints he let 
drop, I found that Linny was as obstinate as ever, and that she 
was still carrying on a correspondence with her unknown admirer. 

One night, after leaving Great George Street, I made my way 
to Hallett’s, but he was out, and Linny assured me that he would 
not be back for hours. She evidentlj^ wanted me to go, and the 
reason was plain — she was busy writing a letter ; and as I went 
away, wondering where to go, I bethought me of Mr. Jabez 
Kowle, who lodged in the neighbourhood, and as it would be his 
time for being home, I determined to go and see him. 

1 easily found his lodgings, at a little grocer’s shop in a by- 
street, where he had the first floor, the front window being turned 
into quite a garden with flowers, and some scarlet-runners twining 
up strings on either side. 

I lieard the familiar snap of his snuff-box as I tapped at tlio 
door, and in reply to his ** Come in,” I entered, to find the old 
gentleman taking^ his leisure by poring over a long slip, and, pen 
m hand, darting in corrections with a grunt of satisfaction. 

“ Ah, young Grace,” he cried, “you here ! I thought you were 
lost. Glad to see you, boy. Here, sit down — no, stand up ; catch 
hold of that bit of manuscript, and read it to me — only a dozen 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


m 

sides.” And to my great astonishment I found myself reading 
away to him in the old style for quite half-an-hour before he 
reached the bottom of the slip proofs and laid his f>en down with 
a satisfied grunt and took a pinch of snuff. 

Quite a treat, Grace — quite a treat,” he cried. *^Sit down. 
I haven’t had a bit of copy read to me like that since you left. 
Boy I’ve got’s a fool, and I could knock his head against the wall. 
Shake hands. How are you ? ” 

I replied that I was quite well, and could see that he was. 

“ No, I’m not,” he said tartly. ^^Much bothered. Money mat- 
ters 1 ” and he took another pinch of snuH. “ So you’ve called to 
ask me to say a word for you to come back to the office, eh P 
Well, I’m glad, boy — I’m glad ! Take it as settled. You can come 
back to-morrow morning! I wUl have you, or I’ll know the 
reason why.” 

I stared at him aghast. 

^^Oh no, Mr. Rowle,” I said, only came to see yo*\ 1 
thought I should like to. I’m getting on so well.” 

‘‘ Are you, though ? Engineering, eh ? Well, I’m sorry for it. 
No, no : I’m glad of it, my lad. I hope you will get on. But I 
liked you for a reading-boy. You were the only chap I ever had 
who could stand by me when I took snuff without sneezing all 
over the slips, and that’s a great thing. Have a pinch ? ” he said, 
offering me his box. No, no : of course not, I forgot. Glad you 
came to see me, Grace — ^very glad. Here, Mrs. Jennings,” he 
cried, going to the door, and shouting down the stairs ; I’ve got 
a young friend here : bring up some sugar-candy and biscuits and 
cinnamon ; anything nice you’ve got.” 

** I really don’t want anything, Mr. Jabez,” I said. 

'^Oh, yes, you do, boy. Ho, hi ! Mrs. Jennings, bring upsome figs.” 

He toddled back to his chair, but was up again directly, to 
shout dov' n the staircase : 

“ Bring up some almonds and raisins, and candied peel, Mrs. 
Jennings.” 

“ Lor’ bless the man, do you want the whole shop ? ” shouted a 
sharp voice. 

“No, I don’t,” said Mr. Jabez grumpily, as he toddled back. “I 
was an out-and-outer for candied peel when I was a boy,” he said, 
rubbing his hands. ' ** Those dried apples, too, that look as if they 
had been sat upon by old women, Grace. Ah, I spent a lot of 
pennies on them when I was a boy.” 

A red-faced woman here made her appearance with a plateful 
of the sweets that Mr. Jabez had named, and she rather scowled 
at me, and banged the plate down hard enough almost to break it 
as she whisked out of the room again and slammed the door. 

“ Now, Grace, fall to, as they say in copy about feasts. 8ee 
that woman ? ” 


MR. JABEZ ROWLE’S MONEY MA'ITERS. 


191 


« Yes, Mr. Jabez.” 

** She’s a Tartar, she is. I live here because that woman acts as 
a lighthouse to me.” 

** A lighthouse, sir ? Because she has got such a red face ? ” 

" Get out I No, you young joker. A warning, a beacon, a boll- 
buoy, a light-ship, to warn me off the rocks and shoals of 
matrimony. I should have married, Grace, years ago, if I hadn’t 
seen what a life a woman can lead a man. She has nearly made 
her husband a lunatic.” 

“Indeed, Mr. Jabez?” 

“ Well, say imbecile. Peg away, my boy,” he continued, 
laughing; “ these figs are beautiful. Peel’s good, too.” 

So it seemed, for Mr. Jabez was feasting away with great gusto, 
and eating two of everything to my one. 

“ Yes, sir, I should have been married and a poor man, instead of 
comparatively rich — at least, was. Money matters are rather 
awkward just now.” 

“ I’m very sorry to hear it, Mr. Jabez,” I said. 

“ I’m sorry to feel it,” said Mr. Jabez, with a fig in one hand 
and a piece of candied peel in the other. “ Come, you don’t eat. 
By Jingo, there’s Grimstone,” he cried, as a step was heard upon 
the stairs; and in his excitement and dread of being seen engaged 
in eating sweets, he stuffed a fig into one breeches-pocket, some 
peel into the other, and snatched up his snuff-box, while I felt 
terribly discomposed at the idea of meeting my old tyrant. 

“ Is it Mr. Grimstone ? ” I faltered. 

“Yes, but you don’t eat. Take another fig,” cried Mr. Jabez, 
as, without Imocking, Mr. Grimstone entered the room. 

“Hallo,” he said, without taking off his hat, “what the deuce 
are you doing here ? ” 

“I’ve come to see Mr. Jabez, Mr. Grimstone,” I replied. 

“Oh, have you? So have I. How long are you going to 
stop?” 

“Oh, hours yet,” said Mr. Jabez. “Sit down, Grim. He 
doesn’t matter ; speak out. He doesn’t belong to the shop now. 
Well : what news ? ” 

“ Bad ! ” said Mr. Grimstone, throwing himself into a chair. 
“ Here, boy, take my hat.” 

I took it quite obediently, and resumed my seat, while Mr. 
Grimstone wiped his bald head with a bright orange handkerchief. 

“ You don’t say so ? ” said Mr. Jabez uneasily. 

“ Yes, I do,” said Mr. Grimstone, taking the box out of the 
reader’s band and helping himself to a pinch; “I said it quite plain.” 

“It’s a bad job.” 

“ Have you just found that out ?” snarled the overseer. “ Pretty 
pair of fools we’ve been. Look here, send that boy away.” 

“ No, no ; no, no. Sit still, Grace. Eat some more figs, boy. 


192 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GKACE. 


I’ll call Mrs. Jennings when you’ve eaten them. There, go oiii 
Grim. Antony Grace isn’t a chatterer.” 

Just as you like,” said Grimstone. '^Well, if he doesn’t get 
married to that gal right off, and bank her money, the game’s up, 
and your £500 and my £750 are gone to the deuce.” 

Is it £750, Grimstone ? ” 

** Yes, curse him ! he got round me with all sorts of promises.” 

** Of bonus. Grim, eh ? ” 

*^Yes, I suppose so,” growled the overseer. "That bill-dis- 
counter chap, Brandysheim, or Brandyman or something’s, corner- 
ing him. He was at the office to-day, and there was a regular 
shine.” 

" Was Ruddle there P ” 

" No, but I hear that Brandysheim threatened to come down 
on him if he wasn’t paid.” 

" And what then ? ” 

" What then ? ” growled Grimstone, with a show of his teeth ; 
"why. Lister’s smashed up — bankrupt, and you and I may sit 
and stare at each other for a pair of fools.” 

" But it won’t hurt Ruddle.” 

" No, only bother him. If Lister’s bankrupt, he’s partner no 
longer, and Ruddle will have to find out what share he has in the 
business.” 

" Yes, that’s what I thought,” said Mr. Jabez dolefully. 

" And we shan’t get a penny 1 ” 

"Not even interest,” said Mr. Jabez. 

" Not even interest,” echoed Grimstone. 

" Not even bonus,” said Mr. Jabez. 

" Not even bonus,” echoed Grimstone again. 

" What’s he done with his money, that’s what I want to know P ” 
3aid Mr. Jabez. 

" Wine— women — horse-racing — foolery I He’s been carrying 
on like mad, and what I suspect is this — Miss Carr begins to smell 
a rat, and I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if the wedding didn’t 
come off.” 

Mr. J abez stared dolefully at Mr. Grimstone, and the overseer 
kept on taking pinches of snuff till the box was empty; and, after 
searching round with finger and thumb, threw the box impatiently 
down, 

"Well, I don’t see that we can do anything,” said Mr. Jabez at 
last, " except wait.” 

" No,” said Grimstone, " unless we can see the lady, and make 
her consent to pay us our £1,250.” 

"And interest,” said Mr. Jabez. 

" And bonus,” said Grimstone, " down on the nail.” 

"Which we can’t do,” said Mr. Jabez, shaking his head. 

"Of course we can’t,” said Grimstone. "All I wish is that I 


AN ANGRY PARTING. 


19d 


hadn’t let you persuade me into lending him the money — the 
savings of a whole life.” 

^^Oh, I like that!” said Mr. Jahez, catching up a pen, and 
making a mark as if he were correcting G i )istone. 

Like it or not, I don’t care,” said Gnmstone, ** there it is. 
Here 1 boy, my hat.” 

“ Going ? ” said Mr. Jahez. 

Going! of course I’m going. Think I’m going to stop in this 
dog-hole, smelling of red-herrings and oil ? ” 

Won’t you take something ? Try a fig.” 

Mr. Grimstone snatched his hat from my hands, gazed at me as 
if he would have liked to set me to pick up pie, and bounced out 
of the room. 

I don’t know which is most unpleasant, Grace,” said the old 
man, Grimstone or his news. Well, he’s gone. Of course, you 
won’t talk about what you’ve heard. It’s a very bad job, though, 
for me — very — very. Hi ! Mrs. Jennings,” he cried at the top of 
the stairs, half an ounce of best Scotch and Rappee.” 

He tapped with his box on the handrail as he spoke, and having 
had it replenished, he came back to sit and take pinches, becoming 
80 abstracted and ill at ease, that I rose to go when he was a 
quarter through the half-ounce. 

Going, Grace ? ” he said. “ Ah, I’m bad company to-night, 
but come again. Let me see, though,” he said, fumbling at some 
letters in his breast-pocket, I’ve got a letter here from that bad 
boy, Peter. Just the same as usual. Tut — tut — oh, here it is. 
* Remember me to that boy ’ — ah, blunder : call it boy — * Antony 
Grace. Tell him I shall come to see him if ever I get two London.’ 
There’s a fellow for you,” said Mr. Jabez, spells ‘ to ’ like the 
figure 2. But he always did want a deal of correcting, did Poter. 
Good-night, good-night.” 

And I went my way, sadly troubled at heart about Miss Ca-r 
and Mr. Lister, and wondering whether she would, after all, 
refuse to be his wife. 


CHAPTER XXXVII. 

AN ANGIIY PARTING. 

I HAD four days to wait before going to Westmouth Street tc 
receive my usual welcome — at least, not my usual welcome, for 
though she seemed to grow more sad and pale. Miss Carr’s recep- 
tion of me increased each time in warmth, till at last, had I been 
a younger brother she could not have been more kind. 

I was a good deal troubled at heart about what I kn jw, and 

13 


194 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


puzzled myself as to my duties in the case. Ought I to take 
Mr. Hallett into my confidence, and ask his advice, or ought I to 
tell Miss Carr herself ? It was hard to settle, and I have often 
thought since of how strangely I was brought at so young an age 
into the consideration of the weighty matters of life of those with 
whom I was in contact. 

It seemed to me that my patroness ought to know what people 
said about Mr. Lister, and that if it were true she ought not to 
marry him. Certainly, at the interview at which I was an 
unwilling listener, there had appeared to be no probability of the 
wedding taking place soon, but all the same. Miss Carr had seemed 
to me terribly cut up, consequent upon the parting with Mr. 
Lister. 

I was so strange and quiet that afternoon that Miss Carr noticed 
it, and had just asked me what was the matter when the servant 
brought up a card and I saw her change colour. 

" Show him up, Edward,” she said quietly; and though I did 
not see the card I felt sure from her manner that I knew who had 
come, and I looked up at Miss Carr, expecting to be told to go 
into the next room, but to my surprise she did not speak, and the 
next moment Mr. Lister came in. 

Ah, Miriam I ” he exclaimed ; " how well — You here, 
Grace ? ” 

‘‘Yes, sir,” I said, feeling very much in the way, as I stood 
where I had risen. 

“Sit down, Antony,” said Miss Carr quietly ; and as I obeyed 
I saw an angry flush cross Mr. Lister’s countenance. 

“Will you give me a few minutes in the next room, Miriam 
dear ? ” he said in a low voice. 

“In my last answer to your letters, John,” she replied, “I 
begged that you would not come to see me for a month or two. 
Why are you here now P ” 

“ Why am I here now ? ” he said in a low, deep voice. “ Can 
you ask me ? Because I want to speak to you — particularly — 
come in the next room.” 

I could not help looking hard at him as he spoke, and thinking 
about what I had heard concerning his affairs, and as I thought 
that he v^as to marry Miss Carr to pay off his debts, a strong 
feeling of resentment against him made me almost determine to 
ulter some word of warning. 

“ He is so handsome, and has such a way with him,” I thought, 
“ that she will do just as he wishes her; ” but as the thoughts were 
in my mind, I was surprised and pleased by finding Miss Carr take 
quite a firm standing. 

“You can have nothing more to say to me, John, than has been 
said already. I have told you that at least six months must elapse 
before I can consent to what you ask.” 


AN ANGRY PARTING. 


19a 


** Will you come into the next room, or send away that boy P " 
he said in a low voice, hut one which showed that he was fast 
losing his temper. 

** No,” she said firmly ; ** and after my last letter I think it cruel 
of you to press me.” 

I cannot help whether it is cruel or not,” he said, growing 
white with anger at her opposition, “ and you are forcing me to 
speak before this boy.” 

“ I leave that to your common sense, John,” she said calmly, 
and with no little dignity in her manner. I don’t know that I 
wish to hide anything from Antony Grace. He knows of our 
engagement.” 

“ Are you mad, Miriam ? ” he cried, unable to contain himself, 
and indirectly venting his spleen upon me. You pick up a poor 
boy out of the gutter, and you take him and make him your bosom 
friend and confidant.” 

Miss Carr caught my hand in hers, as I started, stung to the 
quick and mortified by his words. 

Shame, John Lister ! ” she said, with a look that should have 
brought him to his senses. ‘‘ Shame ! How can you speak like 
that in Antony Grace’s presence, and to me ? ” 

“ Because you make me desperate,” he cried angrily. " I can 
bear it no longer. I will not be trifled with. For months now 
you have treated me as a child. Once more, will you send away 
this boy, or come with me into another room ? ” 

^^Mr. Lister,” she said, rising, ^^you are angry and excited. 
You are saying words now which you will afterwards grieve over, 
as much as I shall regret to have heard them spoken.” 

I can’t help that,” he exclaimed. Day after day I have 
come to you, begging you to listen to me, but I have always 
been put off, until now I have grown desperate.” 

** Desperate ? ” she said wonderingly. 

Yes, desperate. I do not wish to speak before this boy, but 
you force me to it.” 

** What is there in our engagement that I should be ashamed 
to let the whole world hear .P’’ she said proudly. ^^Why, if I 
listened to you, it would be published to every one who would hear.” 

Mr. Lister took a few strides up and down the room. 

" Will you hear me, Miriam ? ” he cried, making an ineffectual 
effort to command his temper. 

“ John Lister,” she replied, I have given you your answer. 
Come to me in six months’ time.” 

Am I to take that as final ? ” he said hoarsely. 

Yes. How can I reply otherwise to your violence P ” 

"Violence! It is enough to drive a man mad! But, once 
more, Miriam, give me your verbal answer to the note I sent you 
this morning. Yes or no. Pause before you answer, for you dc 

13-2 


196 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


not know how much depends upon it. You have made me aes- 
perate. Don’t leave me to repent of what I have done.” 

“ John, dear John ! ” she said softly, ‘‘ I am alone in the world, 
with none to guide me, and I have prayed for help that I might 
give a right answer to your request.’’ 

Yes,” he said, with his lip curling, and it is ” 

“ It is for both our sakes, John,” she said softly ; " I could not 
in -justice to us both say yes, now ; it must be no / ” 

Jtte did not speak, but stood glaring at her for a few moments ; 
then, looking very white, and drawing in his breath with a long, 
low hiss, he turned upon his heel and left the room. 

For a few minutes Miss Carr sat gazing at the door through 
which he had passed, and then, turning and seeing my hot, 
flushed face, she seemed to recall Mr. Lister’s words about me, and 
she took my hand, sitting very quietly for a time. 

When people are angry, Antony,’^ she said quietly, ^Hhey say 
things they do not intend or mean. You must forgive Mr. Lister 
his words about you — for my sake.” 

I will do what you wish,” I said, and then I began wondering 
whether I ought to tell Miss Carr what I knew about Mr. Lister's 
affairs, for it seemed to me that the words I had heard must be 
true, and that this was the explanation of his great anxiety to fix 
the day. 

A dozen times over the words were on my lips, but I felt that 
it would seem as if I took advantage of my position, and were 
trying to blacken Mr. Lister to gain her favour. More likely, I 
thought, it would make her bitter and angry against me, and, 
reflecting that she had determinedly insisted that he should wait 
six months for her answer, I remained silent. 

Miss Carr strove very hard to make me forget the unpleasantry 
of the early part of my visit, but she was at times very quiet and 
subdued, and I believe we both looked upon it as a relief when 
the time came for my departure. 


CHAPTER XXXVm. 

A WEDDING TBIP. 

‘ ^ou’bb getting such a fine gent now, Ant’ny,” said Revitts to 
me one morning ; “ but, if so be as you wouldn’t mind, Mary and 
me’s made up our minds to have a bit of a trip out, a kind of s’rimp 
tea, just by way of celebrating my being made sergeant, and 
getting well again.” 

Why, my dear old Bill,” I cried, why should I mind your 
having a trip P Where are you going ? ” 


A WEDDING TRIP. 


197 


y Well, you see, it’s a toss up, Ant’ny; Gravesend’s best for 
STimps, but Hampton Court’s the nicer sorter place for a day, and 
Mary ain’t never been.” 

“ Then go to Hampton Court,” I said. 

** Hampton Court it is, Mary,” he said. ** That settles it.” 

** And I hope you’ll both enjoy yourselves.” 

“ What, won’t you come ? ” said Revitts blankly. 

** Come 1 what — with you ? ” I said. 

Why, of course, Ant’ny. You don’t suppose we should care 
about going alone. Won’t you come ? ” 

“ You didn’t ask me.” 

Oh, come now ; that I did 1 ” he exclaimed. 

“ That you did not,” I said stoutly. Did he, Mary P ” 

** He meant to, Master Antony,” said Mary, looking up with a 
very red face, and one hand apparently in a grey boxing-glove, 
though it was only one of Revitts’ worsted stockings, in need of 
another dam. 

Well, I’ll ask you now, then,” exclaimed Revitts. “ Will you 
come along with us P ” 

WhenP” 

" Sat’day next, being your half-holiday,” 

** Yes,” 1 said, ** but I must write and tell Miss Carr I’m not 
coming till Sunday.” 

** That’s settled, then,” said Revitts, holding out his big hand for 
me to shake ; and I could not help noticing how thin and soft it 
was ; but he was fast recovering his strength, and was again on 
duty. 

We walked down from Pentonville together, and as we went 
along, he introduced the subject of his accident for the first time 
for some weeks. 

You wouldn’t think as I’m a-trying hard to conjure out who 
it was fetched me that crack on the head, Antony ? ” 

** No,” I said ; ** I thought you had forgotten all about it.” 

^^Notl,” he said, shaking his head. ^^What, me, a sergeant 
just promoted, and let a case like that go by without conjuring it 
out 1 Why, it couldn’t be done ! I should feel as if I was a dis- 
grace to the force. That’s speaking ’ficially,” he said. Now, 
speaking as a man, I’ve got this here to say, that I shan’t rest 
comfortable till I’ve put something on that there fellow’s wrists.” 

** And shall you know him again ? ” I asked. 

Know him ! Out o’ ten thousand — out o’ ten millions o’ men. 
I only wish I knew the gal. It would be such a clue.” 

** It’s no use to be revengeful. Bill,” I said. Let it go. It 
brought Mary up to town.” 

Yes, it did : didn’t it P ” he said, with the sheepish, soft look 
coming over his face for a moment. But it was gone directly, 
and he was the officer once more. ** ’Taint revengeful,” he said ; 


198 


THE STOEY OE ANTONY OEACE. 


it’s dooty. We can’t let outrageous outrages like that take place 
in the main streets. No, Antony : I feel as if my repitation’s 
at stake, to find out who did that, and I shan’t rest till I do.” 

We parted then, and the rest of the week passed swiftly away. 
I told Hallett that I was going to spend the afternoon out on the 
Saturday, so that most likely I should go to Miss Carr’s on the 
Sunday, and he was not to expect me for my usual walk with him, 
one which had grown into a custom ; and being thus clear, I went 
off in the morning to Westminster, it being understood that I was 
to meet Revitts and Mary at the White Horse Cellar, Piccadilly, 
and go down to Hampton Court at midday by the omnibus. 

Punctual to my time, I went across the park and up St. 
James’s Street and saw Revitts and Mary, long before I reached 
them, by the show they made. Mary was in white book muslin, 
with a long black silk scarf, and a bonnet that I could not pretend 
to describe, save that over it she carried a blue parasol shot with 
red ; and Revitts was in black frock-coat, buff waistcoat, and 
white trousers, with a tremendous show of collar standing bolt 
out of a sky-blue watered-silk stock, while his hat shone as if it 
was a repetition of the patent leather of his shoes. 

I instinctively felt that something was the matter as I drew 
near them, and, but for my genuine love and respect for them 
both, I believe I should have run away. I rebuked my cowardly 
shame directly after, though, and went up and shook hands. 

There was not a vestige of tantrums left in Mary’s countenance, 
for it had softened itself into that dreadful smile — the same that 
was playing upon Revitts’ face, as he kept looking at her in a 
satisfied, half-imbecile way, before giving me a nudge with his 
elbow, covering his mouth with his hand, and exclaiming in a 
loud whisper, — 

“We’ve been and done it, Ant’ny I Pouf ! ” This last was a 
peculiar laugh in which he indulged, while Mary cast down her eyes. 

“ Done it ! — done what ? What does he mean, Mary ? ” 

Mary grew scarlet, and became puzzled over the button of one 
of her white kid gloves. 

“ Here, what do you mean. Bill ? ” I said. 

“Done it. Pouf!” he exclaimed, with another laugh from 
behind his hand. “ Done it — married.” 

“ Married ? ” I echoed. 

“Yes. Pouf! Mrs. Sergeant Revitts. Wliite Sergeant. Poufl” 

“ Oh, Mary,” I said, “ and not to tell me ! ” 

“ It was all his doing. Master Antony,” pleaded Mary. “ He 
would have me, and the more I wanted to go back to service, the 
more he made me get married. And now I hope he’s happy.” 

There was no mistaking William Revitts’ happiness as he 
helped his wife on to the outside of the omnibus, behind the 
coachman — ^he shtmg one side of Mary, and I next himj but try 


A WEDDING TKIP. 


199 


as I would, I could not feel as happy. I felt vexed and mortified ; 
for, somehow, it seemed as if it was printed in large letters upon 
the hacks of my companions — Married this morning,” and this 
announcement seemed reflected upon me. 

I wouldn’t have cared if they could have sat still and talked 
rationally ; hut this they did not do, for every now and then they 
turned to look in each other’s faces, with the same weak, half- 
imhecile smile, — after which Mary would cast down her eyes and 
look conscious, while Revitts turned round and smiled at me, 
finishing off with a nudge in my side. 

At times, too, he had spasmodic fits of silent laughter — silent, 
except that they commenced with a loud chuckle, which he sum- 
marily stifled and took into custody hy clapping his great hand 
over his mouth. There were intervals of relief, though ; for 
when, from his coign of vantage, poor Bill saw one of his frater- 
nity on ahead — ^revealed to him, perhaps, by a ray of sunshine 
flashing from the shiny top of his hat — for, of course, this was long 
before the days of helmets — the weak, amiable look was chased off 
his face by the official mask, and, as a sergeant, though of a 
different division, Revitts felt himself bound to stare very hard at 
the police-constable, and frown severely. 

At first I thought it was foolish pride on my part, that I was 
being spoiled by Miss Carr, and that I was extra sensitive about 
my friends ; but I was not long in awakening to the fact that they 
were the objects of ridicflle to all upon the omnibus. 

The first thing I noticed was, that the conductor and driver 
exchanged a wink and a grin, which were repeated several times 
between Piccadilly and Kensington, to the great amusement of 
several of the passengers. Then began a little mild chaff, sprinkled 
by the driver, who started with — 

I say, Joey, when are you going to be married ? ” 

“ Married ? oh, I dunno. I’ve tried it on sev’ral times, but the 
parsons is all too busy.” 

The innocent fit was on Revitts just then, and he favoured 
Mary and me with a left and right nudge. 

Do adone, William,” whispered Mrs. Sergeant ; and he grinned 
hugely. 

Shall you take a public, Joey, when you do itP” said the 
driver, leaning back for another shot. 

Lor’, no ; it won’t run to a public, old man,” was the reply. 
*^We was thinking of the green and tater line, with a cellar 
under, and best Wallsend one and six.” 

I could feel that this was all meant for the newly wedded 
couple, and sat with flaming cheeks. 

See that there wedding in Pickydilly, last week. Bill P ” 

Revitts pricked up his ears, and was about to speak, but the 
driver turned half round, and touted — 


200 


THE STOKY OF ANl’ONY GRACE. 


" What, 'where they'd got straw laid do-wn, and the knocker 
tied up in a white kid glove ? ” 

** No — 0—0 I ” shouted the conductor. ** That wasn’t it. I 
mean dost ter’ Arfmoon Street, when they was just going off.” 

Oh, ah, yes ; I remember now.” 

See the old buffer shy the shoe outer the front winder P ” 

No — 0 — o ! ” 

** He did, and it ’it one o’ the post-boys slap in the eye. Old 
boy had been having too much champagne.” 

Did it though ? ” 

«Yes. I say. Bill.” 

« Hal-low 

**It’s the right card to have champagne on your wedding 
morning, ain’t it ? ” 

“ Ah I some people stands it quite lib’ral like, if they’re nobs ; 
them as ain’t, draws it old and mild.” 

I had another nudge from Revitts just then, and sat feeling as 
if I should like to jump down and run away. 

** Drop o’ Smith’s cool out o’ the cellar wouldn’t be amiss, Joey 
would it P ” 

“ No, old man. I wish we’ could fall across a wedding-party.’' 

A passenger or two were picked up, and we went on in peace 
for a little while ; but the chaffing was commenced again, and 
kept up to such an extent that I longed for the journey to be at 
an end. 

" ’Member Jack Jones P ” said the driver. 

" Ah I what about him P ” said the conductor. 

" He went and got married last year.” 

‘^Did heP” 

t( Yes.” 

** Who did he marry P ” 

*^That there Mrs. Simmons as kep’ the 'Queen’s Arms’ at 
OHinnum Green.” 

« Ah ! ’’ 

Nice job he made of it. 

"DidheP” 

'' Yes ; he thought she was a widder.” 

“ Well, warn’t she P ” 

No ; she turned out a big-a-mee ; and one day her fust husban 
comes back from ’Stralia, and kicks Jack Jones out, and takes his 
place ; and when Jack ’peals against it, Mrs. Simmons says it was 
all a mistake.” 

" That was warm for Jack, wasn’t it p ” 

“Hot, I say.” 

“Well,” said the conductor; “when I makes up my mind 
again, and the parsons ain’t so busy, I shall have the missus cross- 
examined,” 


A WEDDING TRIP. 


201 


** What for, Joey P ” 

So as to see as she ain’t a hig“-a-mee.” 

Revitts, who was drinking all this in, looked very serious here, 
as if the conversation was tending towards official matters. 
Perhaps it occurred to him that he had not cross-examined Mary 
before he was married ; but he began to smile again soon after, 
for the conductor took a very battered old copper key-bugle from 
a basket on the roof, and, after a few preliminary toots, began to 
rattle off “ The Wedding Day.” The driver shook the reins, the 
four horses broke into a canter, and as we swept past the green 
hedge-grows and market-gardens, with here and there a pretty 
villa, 1 began to enjoy the ride, longing all the same, though, for 
Revitts and Mary to begin to talk, instead of smiling at each 
other in such a horribly happy way, and indulging in what was 
meant for a secret squeeze of the hand, but which was, however, 
generally seen by half the passengers. 

The air coming to an end, and the bugle being duly drained, 
wiped, and returned to its basket, the driver turned his head again : 

“ Nice toon that, Joey.” 

"Like it?” 

" Ah, I was going to say * hangcore,’ on’y we’re so dost to 
Richmond. What was it — ‘ Weddin’ Day ’ ?” 

" That’s right, old man.” 

" Ah I thought it was.” 

Revitts sent his elbows into Mary and me again, and had a 
silent laugh under one glove, but pricked up his ears directly, as 
the conductor shouted again : 

" Ain’t thab Bob Binnies ? ” 

" What, him on the orf side ? ” said the driver, pointing with' 
his whip. 

tt Yes.” 

" Weil, what of him ? ” 

" What of him ? Why, he’s the chap as got married, and had 
such a large family.” 

" Did he, though ? ” said the driver seriously, 

** Ten children in five years. Bill.” 

" Lor’ I with only five-and-twenty shillings a week. How did 
he manage P” 

Revitts looked very serious here, and sat listening for the answer. 

"Kep’ him precious poor; but, stop a moment, I ain’t quite 
right. It was five children in ten years.” 

Revitts made another serious assault on my ribs, and I saw 
Mary give herself a hitch ; and whisper again to her lord. 

There was a general laugh at this stale old joke, which, like 
manv more well-worn ones, however, seemed to take better than 
the keenest wit, and just then the omnibus drew up in front of an 
inn to change horses. 


202 


THE'STOEY OE ANTONY GKACE. 


The driver unbuckled and threw down his reins, previous^to 
descending to join the conductor, who was already off his perch. 
Several of the passengers got down, and after bidding Mary and 
me keep our places, Revitts prepared to descend, rather more 
slowly though, for his wedding garments were not commodious. 

Don’t drink anything, William dear,” whispered Mary. 

“ Not drink anything to-day ? ” he said, laughing. Oh, come, 
that won’t do ! ” 

He jumped off the step, and I saw him join the driver and con- 
ductor, who laughed and nodded, and, directly after, each man had 
a foaming pint of ale, which they held before putting to their 
lips, till Revitts came round to our side with a waiter bearing 
two glasses of wine and another pint of ale, the driver and con- 
ductor following. 

“ Oh, I don’t wan’t anything,” said Mary, rather sharply. 

It’s only sherry wine, my dear,” said Revitts magnificently; 
and, as if to avoid remark, Mary stooped down and took the 
glasses, one being for me, Revitts taking his shiny pewter measure 
of ale. 

“ Here is long life and happiness to you, mum, and both on 
you,” said the driver, nodding in the most friendly way. 

Aforesaid,” exclaimed the conductor, end a bit o’ chaff on’y 
meant as fun. Long life and a merry one to both on you. Shaver, 
same to you.” 

I was the Shaver,” and the healths being drunk in solemn 
silence, and I accommodated with a tumbler, and some water to 
my sherry, the driver mounted again, the conductor took out his 
key-bugle, the streets of pretty Richmond echoed to an old- 
fashioned air, and the four fresh but very dilapidated old screws 
that did the journey to Hampton Court and back to Richmond 
were shaken into a scrambling canter, so that in due time we 
reached the royal village, the chaff having been damped at 
Richmond with the ale, and ceasing afterwards to fly. 

W'e learned that a return omnibus left the “ Toy ” at seven o’clock, 
and then started for our peregrination of the palace and grounds. 
But somehow that pint of ale seemed to have completely changed 
poor Revitts. The late injury to his head had made him so weak 
there, that the ale acted upon him in the strangest manner. He was 
excited and irritable, and seemed to be brooding over the remarks 
he had heard upon the omnibus. 

The gardens, of course, took our attention first, and there being 
few people about, and those of a holiday class, the gay costume of 
m^ companions ceased to excite ndtice, and I began to enjoy our 
trip. There were the great smooth gravel walks, the closely 
shaven lawns, the quaintly clipped shrubs, and old-fashioned 
flower beds to admire. The fountain in the centre made so much 
spray in the pleasant breeze that from one point of view there was a 


A WEDJDING TEIP. 


203 


miniature rainbow, and when we walked down to the iron railings, 
and gazed at the long avenue of the Home Park, with its bright 
canal-like lake between, Mary was enraptured. 

Oh, do look, dear ! ” she exclaimed ; isn’t it evingly, 
William?’* 

“ Yes,” he said stolidly, as he took hold of the railing with his 
white kid glove ; but what I say is this : Every man who enters 
into the state of wedlock ought fust to make sure as the woman he 
marries ain’t a big-a-mee.” 

Here he unbuttoned his waistcoat, under the impression that it 
was his uniform coat, so as to get out his notebook, and then, 
awakening to his mistake, hastily buttoned it again. 

“ Haven’t got a pencil and a bit o’ paper, have you, Ant’ny ? ” 
he said. 

‘‘ What are you talking about, William ? ” exclaimed Mary 
"Don’t be so foolish. Now, take us and show us the oranges 
Master Antony,” she said. 

This was on the strength of my having invested in a guide- 
book, though both my companions seemed to place themselves in 
my hands, and looked up to me as being crammed with a vast 
amount of knowledge about Cardinal Wolsey, Henry VHI., and 
those who had made the palace their home. 

So I took them to see the Orangery, which Eevitts, who seemed 
quite out of temper, looked down upon with contempt. 

Bah ! ” he exclaimed ; " call them oranges 1 Why, I could go 
and buy twice as good in Gray’s Inn Lane for three a penny. 
That there woman, Ant’ny, what was her name ? ” 

" What woman ? ” 

" Her as committed big-a-mee ? ” 

" Oh, do adone with such stuff, William dear. Now, Master 
Antony, what’s next ? ” 

"I know,” said Kevitts oracularly, "Mrs. Simmons. I say she 
ought to have been examined before a police magistrate, and after 
proper adjournments, and the case reg’larly made up by the 
sergeant who had it in charge, she ought to have been committed 
for trial.” 

" Oh, William dear, do adone,” cried Mary, clinging to his arm. 

" Cent. Crim. Court ” 

"William!” 

"Old Bailey ” 

" William dear I ” 

" Before a jury of her fellow-countrymen, or, — I say, Ant’ny 
ain’t that wrong ? ” 

" What ? ” I said, laughing. 

"Oh, it ain’t a thing to laugh at, my lad. It’s serious,” he 
said, taking off his hat and rubbing his head, exhaling, as he did 
80 , a strong smell of hair-oik 


204 


THE STORY OF ANT DNY GRACE. 


What is serious ? ” I said. 

Why, that,” replied Revitts, I ain’t sure, in a case like that, 
it oughtn’t to be a jury of matrons.” 

Oh do, pray, hurry him along, Master Antony,” cried Mary 
piteously. Whatever is the matter with you to-day, W^illiam ? ” 

I’m married,” he said severely. 

And you don’t wish you weren’t, William, don’t say so, 
please,” exclaim^ Mary pitifully, 

I don’t knotf,” said Revitts stolidly. Go on, Ant’ny.” 

He went on, himself, towards the Vinery, Mary following with 
me, and looking at me helplessly, as if asking what she should do. 

The sight of the great hunches of grapes in such enormous 
numbers seemed to change the course of William Revitts’ 
thoughts, and we went on pretty comfortably for a time, Mary’s 
spirits rising, and her tongue going more freely, but there were no 
more weak, amiable smiles. 

At last we entered the palace, and on seeing a light dragoon on 
duty, Revitts pulled himself together, looked severe, and marched 
by him, as if belonging to a kindred force ; but he stopped to ask 
questions on the grand staircase, respecting the painted ceilings. 

Are them angels, Ant’ny ? ” he said. 

I suppose so,” I replied. 

^^Then I don’t believe it,” he said angrily. ^'Why, if such 
evideaice was given at Clerkenwell, everybody in the police-court 
would go into fits, and the reporters would say in the papers, 
^ Loud laughter, which was promptly repressed ’ ! or, ^ Loud 
laughter, in which the magistrate joined.’ ” 

‘‘ Whatever does he mean, Master Antony ? I don’t know what’s 
come to him to-day,” whispered Mary. 

Why, that there,” said Revitts contemptuously. Just fancy 
a witness coming and swearing as the angels in heaven played big 
fiddles, and things like the conductor blew coming down. The 
painter must have been a fool.” 

He was better pleased with the arms and armour, stopping 
to carefully examine a fine old mace. 

“ Yes, that would give a fellow' a awful wunner, Ant’ny,” he 
said ; ** but it would be heavy, and all them pikes and things ain’t 
necessary. A good truncheon properly handled can’t be beat.” 

Old furniture, tapestry, and the like had their share of attention, 
but Revitts hurried me on when I stopped before some of the 
pictures, shaking his head and nudging me. 

I wonder at you, Ant’ny,” he whispered. 

His face was scarlet, and he had not recovered his composure 
when we reached another room, where a series of portraits made 
me refer to my guide. 

Ladies of Charles the Second’s Court,” I said, painted by 
Sir Peter Lely,” 


WILLIAM KEVmS IS ECCENTEIO. 


205 


“ Then he ought to have been ashamed of himself,” said"llevitts 
sharply ; and drawing Mary’s arm through his, he hurried me off, 
evidently highly disapproving of the style of bodice then in 
vogue. 


CHAPTER XXXIX. 

WILLIAM REVITTS IS ECCENTRIC. 

The dinner we had at the inn was not a success. The waiters 
evidently settled that we were a wedding-party, and charged 
accordingly. Mary tried hard to keep Revitts from taking any 
more to drink ; but he said it was necessary on a day like that, and 
ordered wine accordingly. 

He drank slowly, and never once showed the slightest trace 
of intoxication; but the wine also produced a strange irritability, 
which made him angry, even to being fierce at times; and over 
and over again I saw the tears in poor Mary’s eyes. 

Ever and again that bigamy case — real or imaginary — of which 
he had heard as we came down kept cropping up, and the more 
Mary tried to turn the conversation, the more eager he became to 
discuss it. The wedding-day, his wife, my remarks, all were 
forgotten or set aside, so that he might explain to us, with a vast 
amount of minutiae, how he would have got up such a case, 
beginning with the preliminary inquiries and ending with the 
culprit’s sentence. 

We had it over the dinner, with the waiters in the room; we 
had it in culs-de-sac in the maze ; and we had it over again in 
Bushy Park, as we sat under the shade of a great chestnut ; after 
which Revitts lay down, seeming to drop asleep, and Mary said to 
me, piteously : 

“ 1 do believe, dear, as he’s took it into his head that I’ve com- 
mitted big-a-mee 1 ” 

The words were uttered in a whisper, but they seemed to 
galvanize Revitts, who started up into a sitting posture, and ex- 
claimed sharply: 

“ I don’t know as you ain’t. I never cross-examined you before 
we was married. But look here, Mary Revitts, it’s my dooty tc 
tell you as what you say now will be took down, and may be used 
as evidence against you.” 

After which oracular delivery he lay down and went off fast 
asleep, leaving Mary to weep in silence, and wish we had never 
come away from home. 

I could not help joining her in the wish, though I did not say 
so, but did all I could to comfort her, as Mr. Peter Rowle’s moral 
aphorisms about drink kept coming to my mind. Not that poor 


206 


THE STOEY OF AHTONY GEACE. 


Revitts had, in the slightest degree, exceeded ; and we joined in 
saying that it was all due to over-excitement consequent upon his 
illness. 

If I could only get him home again, poor hoy, I wouldn’t 
care,” said Mary; and we then comforted ourselves with the hope 
that he would be better when he awoke, and that then we would 
go to one of the many places offering, have a quiet cup of tea, 
which would be sure to do him good, and then go back home, 
quietly, inside the omnibus. 

Revitts woke in about an hour, evidently much refreshed and 
better, hut still he seemed strange. The tea, however, appeared 
to do him good, and in due time we mounted to our seats outside 
the omnibus, for he stubbornly refused to go within. 

He did not say much on the return journey, but the bigamy case 
was evidently running in his head, from what he said : and once, 
in a whisper, poor Mary, who was half broken-hearted, confided 
to me now, sitting on her other side, that she felt sure poor William 
was regretting that they had been married. 

“ And I did so want to wait,” she said : ‘‘ but he wouldn’t any 
longer.” 

“ Are you two whispering about that there case ? ” he cried 
sharply. 

No, William dear,” said Mary. Do you feel better ? ” 

“ Better ? ” he said irritably. ‘‘ There isn’t anything the matter 
with me.” 

He turned away from her, and sat watching the side of the road, 
muttering every now and then to himself in a half-angry, way, 
while poor Mary, in place of going into a tantrum, got hold of my 
hand between both hers, and held it very hard pressed against the 
front of her dress, where she was protected by a rigid piece of bone 
or steel. Every now and then, poor woman, she gave the hand a 
convulsive pressure, and a great sob in the act of escaping Avould 
feel like a throb against my arm. 

So silent and self-contained did Revitts grow at last, that poor 
Mary began to pour forth in a whisper the burden of her trouble, 
while I sat wondering, and thinking what a curious thing this love 
must be, that could so completely transform people, and yet give 
them so much pain. 

It wasn’t my doing, ^Master Antony dear,” whispered Mary ; 
^Hor I said it would be so much better for me to go back to 
service for a few years, and I always thought as hasty marriages 
meant misery. But William was so masterful. He said it was 
no use his getting on and improving his spelling, and getting his 
promotion, if he was always to live a weary, dreary bachelor — 
them wap his very words. Master Antony ; and now, above aU 
times, was the one for us to get married.” 

<< He’s tired, Mary,” I said ; "that’s aih” 


WILLIAM LEVITTS IS ECCENTLIC. 


207 


** That 8 all ? Ah, my dear 1 it’s a very gr^at all. He’s tired of 
me; that’s what he is; aud I shall never forgive myself for being 
80 rash.” 

“ 15ut you have been engaged several years, haven’t you, Mary ? ” 

“Yes, my dear; but years ain’t long when you’re busy and 
always hard at work. I dessay they’re a long time to gentlefolks 
as has to wait, but it never seemed long to me, and Tve done a 
very rash thing ; but I didn’t think the punishment was coming 
quite so soon.” 

“ Oh, nonsense, Mary ; Bill will be all right again soon,” I said, 
as I could see, by the light of a gas-lamp we passed, that the poor 
disappointed woman had been crying till she had soaked and 
spoiled her showy bonnet-strings. 

“ No, my dear, I don’t think so ; I feel as if it was all a punish- 
ment upon me, and that I ought to have waited till he was quite 
well and strong.” 

It was of no avail to try and comfort, so I contented myself 
with sitting still and pressing poor Mary’s rough honest hand, 
while the horses rattled merrily along, and we gradually neared 
the great city. 

I was obliged to own that if this was a specimen of a wedding- 
day, it was anything but a joyous and festive time ; and it seemed 
to me that the day that had begun so unsatisfactorily was to be 
kept in character to the end. 

For, before reaching Hammersmith, one of the horses shied and 
fell, and those at the pole went right upon it before the omnibus 
could be stopped, with the consequence that the vehicle was nearly 
upset, and a general shriek arose. 

No harm, however, was done, and in a quarter of an hour we 
were once more under weigh, but Mary said, with a sigh and a 
rub of the back of my hand against the buttons of her dress, that 
it was a warning of worse things to come ; and though very sorry 
for her, I could not help longing for our journey’s end. 

“ Just you come over here, Ant’ny,” said Revitts suddenly ; and 
I had to change places and sit between him and his wife, of whom 
he seemed not to take the slightest notice. 

“ Are you better. Bill ? ” I said. 

“ Better F ” he said sharply ; “ what do you mean by better ? 
I’m all right.” 

“ That’s well,” I said. 

“ Of course it is. Now look here, Ant’ny, I’ve been thinking a 
good deal about that there big-a-mee as we come along, and I’ll 
just tell you what I should have done.” 

I heard Mary give a gulp ; but I thought it better not to try 
and thwart him, so prepared to listen. 

“ You see, Ant’ny,” be said, in a very didactic manner, “ when 
• fellow is in the force, and is always taking up people and getting 


208 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


up cases, and attending at the police courts, and Old Bailey sessions 
and coroners’ inquests, he picks up a deal of valuable information.” 

“ Of course, Bill.” 

He do ; it stands to reason that he do. Well, then, I ought to 
know just two or three things.” 

Say two or three thousand, Bill. 

“ Well,” he said, giving his head an official roll, as if settling it 
in his great stock, " we won’t say that. Let’s put it at ’undreds — 
two or three ’undreds. Now, if I’d had such a case as that big-a- 
mee in hand, I should have begun at the beginning. — Where are 
we now ? ” he said, after a pause, during which he had taken oS 
his hat, and rubbed his head in a puzzled way. 

“ You were talking about the case,” I said, “ and beginning at 
the beginning.” 

" Don’t you try to be funny, young fellow,” he said severely. 
“ I said, where are we now ? ” 

** J ust passing Hyde Park Comer, Bill.” 

Yes, of course,” he said. Well, look here, my lad, there’s no 
doubt about one thing : women, take ’em all together, are — no, I 
won’t say a bad lot, but they’re weak — awful weak. I’ve seen a 
deal on ’em at the police-courts.” 

** I suppose so,” I said, as I heard Mary give a low sigh. 

They’re not what they should be, Ant’ny, by a long chalk, and 
the way they’ll teU lies and deceive and cheat’s about awful, that 
it is.” 

Some women are bad, I daresay,” I said, in a qualifying tone. 

‘^Some?” he said, with a short, dry laugh; “it’s some as is 
good. Most women’s bad.” 

“ That’s a nice wholesale sort of a charge,” said a passenger 
behind him, in rather a huffy tone. 

“ You mind your own business,” said Revitts sharply. “ I 
wasn’t talking to you ; ” and he spoke in such a fierce way that 
the man coloured, while Mary leaned forward, and looked im- 
ploringly at me, as much as to say, “ Pray, pray, don’t let him 
quarrel.” 

“ I say it, and I ought to know,” said Revitts dictatorially, 
“that women’s a bad lot, and after hearing of that case this morn- 
ing, I say as every woman afore she gets married ought to go 
through a reg’lar cross-examination, and produce sittifikits of 
character, and witnesses to show where she’s been, and what she’s 
been adoing of for say the last seven years. If that was made 
law, we shouldn’t have poor fellows taken in and delooded, and 
then find out afterwards as it’s a case of big-a-mee, like we heerd 
of this morning. Why, as I was a-saying, Ant’ny, if I’d had 

that case in hand eh ? Oh, ah, ves, so it is. I’ll get down 

first. I didn’t think we was so near.’^ 

For poor Bill’s plans about Ihf bigamy case were brought to 


HALLErr’S NEWS. 


209 


an end by the stopping of the omnibus in Piccadilly, and I gave 
a sigh of relief as we drew up in the bright, busy thoroughfare, 
after a look at the dark sea of shining lights that lay spread to 
the right over the Green Park and Westminster. 

Carriages were passing, the pavement was thronged, and it 
being a fine night, all looked very bright and cheery after what 
had been rather a dull ride. Revitts got down, and I was about 
to follow, offering my hand to poor, sad Mary, when just as my 
back was turned, Revitts called out to me : 

Ant’ny, Ant’ny, look after my wife ! ” and as I turned sharply, 
I just caught sight of him turning the corner of the street, and 
be was gone. 


CHAPTER XL. 

hallett’s news; 

I WAS so staggered by this strange behaviour that I did not think 
of pursuit. Moreover, I was in the act of helping poor Mary to 
the ladder placed for her to descend, while she, poor thing, gave 
vent to a cutting sigh, and clung tightly to my hand. 

As we stood together on the pavement, our eyes met, and there 
was something so piteous in the poor woman’s face, that it roused 
me to action, and catching her hand, I drew it through my arm. 

“ He has gone to get a glass of ale, Mary,” I said cheerfully, 
** Let’s see if we can see him.” 

*^No,” she said huskily; ‘*he has gone: he has left me for 
good, Master Antony, and I’m a miserable, wretched woman.” 

“Oh, nonsense,” I cried. “ Come along. We shall find him.” 

“No,” she said, in a decisive way ; “he has gone. He’s been 
regretting it ever since this morning.” 

“ Don’t, pray ; don’t cry, Mary,” I whispered in alarm, for I was 
afraid of a scene in the streets. 

“No, my dear; don’t you be afraid of that,” she said, with a 
sigh. “ I’ll try and bear it till we get home ; but I won’t pro- 
mise for any longer.” 

“ Don’t you be foolish, Mary,” I said sharply. “ He has not 
left you. He’s too fond of you. Let’s see if he is in the bar.” 

Mary sighed ; but she allowed herself to be led where I pleased, 
and for the next half-hour we stood peering about in every likely 
place for the truant husband, but in vain; and at last, feeling that 
It was useless to search longer, I reluctantly turne d to poor, patient, 
silent Mary, wondering greatly that she had not burst out into 
a “ tantrum,” and said that we had better go home. 

“ Go where she said dolefully. 


14 


210 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE, 


“ Home,” I replied, “ to your lodgings.” 

lodgings. Master Antony,” she wailed. have no 

lodgings. I’m a poor, helpless, forsaken woman I ” 

Oh, what nonsense, Mary,” I cried, hurrying her along ; don’t 
be so foolish ! ” — for I was in -mortal terror of a violent burst 
of tears. Come along, do. Here I ” I shouted ; " cab ! ” — and I 
sighed with relief as I got her inside, and gave the man directions 
to take us to Caroline Street, Pentonville. 

But even in the cab Mary held up, striving hard, poor woman, 
to master her emotion — her pride, no doubt, helping her to pre- 
serve her calmness till she got to the happy home. 

“ I dare say we shall find him upstairs,” I said, after giving 
the cabman a shilling more than his fare ; but though there was 
a light burning, and the landlady had spread the table, to make 
the place look welcome to the newly wedded pair, there was no 
sign of Revitts, and we neither of us, in our shame, dared to ask 
if he had been back. 

On the contrary, we gladly got to the rooms — Revitts’ one 
having now expanded to three — and once there, Mary gasped out : 

“ Master Antony dear, shut and lock the door — quick — quick I” 

I hastily did as she bade me, and as I turned, it was to see poor 
Mary tear off her bonnet and scarf, throw herself on the little 
couch, cover her face with her hands, and lie there crying and 
sobbing in a very passion of grief, misery, and shame. 

It was no noisy outburst: it was too deep for that; but the 
poor woman had to relieve herself of the day’s disappointment 
and agony, and there she lay, beating down and stifling every 
hysterical cry that fought for exit, while her breast heaved with 
the terrible emotion. 

I was too young then to realize the full extent of the shame 
and abasement the poor woman must have felt, but all the same 
I sympathized with her deeply, and in my weak, boyish way did 
all I could to console her, but in vain. Por quite an hour the 
outburst continued, till at last, quite in despair, I cried out : 

Oh Mary, Mary ! what can I do to comfort you ” 

She jumped up into a sitting position, then ; threw back her 
dishevelled hair ; wiped her eyes, and looked, in spitex)f her red 
and swollen lids, more herself. 

^'Oh, my own dear boy,” she cried, ^^what a wicked, selfish 
wretch I am I ” and, catching me in her arms, she kissed me very 
tenderly. 

“ There,” she said with a piteous smile ; “ it’s all over now, 
^Master Antony, and I won’t cry another drop. You’re a dear, 
good, affectionate boy — that you are, and I’ll never forget it, and 
you’re as hungry as a hundred hunters, I know.” 

In spite of my protestations, she hastened to make that balm for 
all sorrows — a cup of tea. 


HALLETT’S NEWS. 


211 


“But I don’t want it, Mary,”! protested, “and I’m not hungry.” 

“ Then I do, and I am,” she said, smiling. “ You won’t mind 
having a cup with me, I know, Master Antony dear. Just like 
old times.” 

“ Well, I will try,” I said,'“ and I dare say Bevitts will be back 
by then.” 

Mary glanced at the little Dutch clock in the comer, and saw 
that it pointed to eleven ; then, shaking her head, she said sadly : 

“ No, I don’t think he’ll come back.” 

“ But you don’t think he has run away, Mary ? ” 

“ I don’t know what to think, my dear,” she said; “ I only hope 
that he won’t come to any harm, poor boy. It’s his poor head, 
and that’s why he turned so strange.” 

“ Yes,” I said joyfully, as I saw that at last she had taken the 
common-sense view of the case, “that’s it, depend upon it, Mary; 
and if he does not come soon, we’ll give notice to the police, and 
they’ll find him out.” 

“ No, my dear, don’t do that,” she said piteously ; “ it would be 
like shaming the poor boy ; for if his mates got to know that he 
had run away like on his wedding-day, he’d never hear the last 
of it.” 

I was obliged to agree in the truth of this remark, and I began 
to realize then, in spite of poor Mary’s rough exterior and ignor- 
ance, what a depth of patient endurance and thoughtfulness there 
was in the nature of a woman. Her first outburst of uncontrollable 
grief past, she was ready to sit down and patiently bear her load 
of sorrow, waiting for what more trouble might come ; for I am 
fully convinced that the poor woman looked forward to no plea- 
sure in her married life. In spite of her belief that her husband’s 
strange conduct was in some way due to his late accident, she felt 
convinced that he was regretting his marriage, and, if that were 
so now, she had no hope of winning him to a better state. 

We were both weary, and when the tea had been finished, Mary 
carefully washed up the things, saw that there was a sufficiency 
of water, and kept it nearly on the boil. Then she reset the tea 
things in the tidiest way, ready for Bevitts if he should like a 
cup when he came home, and, on second thoughts, put out another 
cup and saucer. 

“ It will be more sociable like. Master Antony,” she said, by 
way of excuse ; “ for, of course, I don’t want no more, though 
I do bless them Chinese as invented tea, which is a blessing to our 
seek.” 

These preparations made, and a glance round the sitting-room 
having been given, Mary uttered a deep sigh, took up her work- 
basket, placed it on her knees, thrust her hand into a black 
stocking, and began to darn. 

I sat talldng to her in a low voice for some time, feeling sin- 


212 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


cerely sorry for her, and wondering what could have become of 
Revitts, but at last, in spite of my honest sympathy, I began to 
nod, and the various objects in the room grew indistinct. 

Hadn’t you better go to bed, my dear ? ” said a v^oice near me; 
and I started into wakefulness, and found Mary standing near me, 
with the black stocking-covered hand resting on one shoulder, 
while with the other she brushed my hair off my forehead. 

“ Bed ? No ! ” I exclaimed, shaking myself. ** I couldn’t help 
feeling sleepy, Mary ; but I shan’t go to bed.” 

But it’s close upon twelve o’clock, dear, and you must be 
tired out.” 

“ Never mind, Mary ; to-moiTOw’s Sunday,” I said, with a 
yawn ; and I went on once more talking to her about the 
engineer’s office, and how I got on with young Girtley and his 
father, till my voice trailed off, and through a mist I could see 
Mary with that black stocking upon her hand poking about it 
with a great needle. 

Then the black stocking seemed to swell and swell to a moun- 
tain’s size, tiU it was like one huge mass, which Mary kept 
attacking and stabbing with a long, bright steel lance, but without 
avail, for it still grew, and grew’^, and grew, till it seemed about to 
overwhelm me, and in my horror I was trying vainly to cry to her 
to stab it again, when I started up into wakefulness, for there 
was the faint tinkle of a bell. 

Mary, too, had leaped to her feet, and was clinging to me. 

** Once ! ^ she wffiispered. 

There was another tinkle, very softly given. 

“ Twice I ” whispered Mary. 

Then another very faint ring. 

** Three I ” whispered Mary ; it’s Jones.” 

" It’s Revitts come home 1 ” I said joyfully. 

“ No,” she said, still clinging to me. lie has the latch-key.” 

Jjost it,” I said. Let me run down and let him in.” 

No, no. Wait a moment,” said -Mary faintly. I can’t bear 

it yet. There’s something wrong with my poor boy.” 

There isn’t,” I cried impatiently. 

There is,” she said hoarsely ; and they’ve come to bring the 
news.” 

She clung to me spasmodically, but loosed me directly after, as 
she said quietly : ** 1 can bear it now.” 

I ran down softly, and opened the door to admit the wandering 
husband ; but to my astonishment, in place of Revitts, there stood 
Stephen Hallett. 

‘‘ Hallett ! ” I exclaimed. 

^^Yes,” he said. “I saw a light in the rooms. Is Revitts 
there?” 

No,” I said. " Not yet,” 


HALLEIT’S NEWS. 


213 


“On duty?” 

“ No ; he was married to-day.” 

“ Yes, yes,” he said, in a strange tone of voice. “ I remember 
now. Who is upstairs ? ” 

“ Mrs. Revitts — Mary.” 

“ Let us go up,” he said ; “ I’ll step up quietly.” 

I was the more confused and muddled for having just awakened 
from a deep sleep, and somehow, all this seemed to be part of the 
dream connected with the great black mass that had threatened 
to fall upon me. I should not have been the least surprised if I 
had suddenly awakened and found myself alone, when, after 
closing the door, I led Hallett upstairs to the little front room 
where Mary was standing with dilated eyes, staring hard at the 
door. 

“ You, Mr. Hallett ? ” she exclaimed, as he half staggered in, 
and then, staring round, seemed to reel, and caught my hand as I 
helped him to a seat. 

“ Tell me,” gasped Mary, catching at his hand ; “is it very bad ? ” 
He nodd^, 

“ Give me — water,” he panted. “ I am — exhausted.” 

Mary rushed to the little cupboard for a glass, and the brandy 
that had been kept on Revitts’ behalf, and hastily pouring some 
into a glass with water, she held it to him, and he drained it at a 
draught. 

“ Now, teU me,” she exclaimed. “ Where is he — what is it — 
have you seen him ? ” 

“ No,” he cried hoarsely, as he clenched his fist and held it 
before him ! “ no, or I should have struck him dead.” 

“ Mr. Hallett ! ” she cried, starting. Then, in a piteous voice, 
“ Oh, tell me, please — what has he done ? He is my husband, my 
own dear boy ! Pray, pray, tell me — he was half mad. Oh, 
what have — what have I done ! ” 

“ Is she mad ?” cried Hallett angrily. “ Where is her husband 
— where is Revitts ? ” 

“ We don’t know,” I said hastily. “ We are waiting for him.” 

“ I want him directly,” he said hoarsely. “ I could not go to a 
strancer.” 

“ What is the matter, Hallett ? ” I cried. “ Pray, speak out. 
What can I do ? ” 

“ Nothing,” he said hoarsely. “ Yes ; tell him to come — no, 
bring him to me. Do you hear P ” 

“ Yes,” I faltered. 

“ At any hour — whenever he comes,” said Hallett, speaking 
now angrily, as he recovered under the stimulus of the brandy. 

“ Then there is something terribly wrong,” I said. 

“ Wrong ? Yes. My God ! ” he muttered, “ that I should 
have to tell it — Linny has gone 1 ” 


2H 


THE STOHY OF ANTONY GEACE, 


CHAPTER XLI. 

THE bridegroom’s RETURN. 

Oh, Hallett ! ” I cried, caL-cliing liis hand, as the poor fellow sat 
blankly gazing before him in hia mute despair. “It is a mistake ; 
she could not be so wicked.” 

“ Wicked ! he said with a curious laugh. “ Was it wicked, 
after all her promises — my forgiveness — my gentle, loving words? 
I was a fool. I believed that she was weaning herself from it 
all, and trying to forget. A woman would have read her at a 
glance ; but I, a poor, mad dreamer, always away, or buried in 
that attic, saw nothing, only that she was very quiet, and thin, 
and sad.” 

“ Did she tell you that she would go, Hallett ? ” I asked, 
hardly knowing what I said. 

“ No, Antony,” I replied, in a dreary tone. 

“ Did you have any quarrel ? ” 

“ No ; not lately. She was most affectionate — poor child I and 
her heart must have been sore with the thought of what she was 
about to do. Only this evening, before I went up into the attic 
to dream over my invention, she crept to my side, put her little 
arms round my neck, and kissed me, as she used when she was a 
tiny child, and said how sorry she was that she had given me so 
much pain. Antony, lad,” he cried passionately, “ I went up to 
my task to-night a happy man, thinking that one heavy load was 
taken off my shoulders, and that the future was going to be 
brighter for us both. For, Antony, in my cold, dreamy way, I 
love her very dearly, and so I have ever since she was a little 
wilful child.” 

He sat gazing at me with such a piteous expressioji in his face 
that his words went to my heart, and I heard Mary give quite a 
gulp. 

“ But, Hallett,” I said, “ you are not sure ; she may have gone 
to some friend’s. She may have come back by this time.” 

“ Come back P ” he said fiercely. “ No ; she has not come back. 
Not yet. Some day she will return, poor strayed lamb ! ” he 
added, gazing straight before him, his voice softening and hia 
arms extending, as if he pictured the whole scene and was about 
to take her to his heart. 

“ But are you sure that she has really gone ? ” I cried. 

“ Sure P Read that.” 

I took the crumpled paper with trembling fingers, and saw at 
a glance that he was right. In ill-written, hardly decipherable 
words, the poor girl told her brother that she could bear it no 


THE BRIDEGROOM’S RETURN. 


215 


longer, but that she had fled with the man who possessed her 
heart. 

I stared blankly at poor Hallett, as he took the note from my 
hand, read it once more through, crushed it in his hand with a 
fierce look, and thrust it back in his pocket. 

** Is it — is it your poor dear sister who has gone ? ” said Mary 
excitedly. 

“ Yes,” ho cried, with his passion mastering him once more ; 
and his hands opened and shut as if eager to seize some one by 
the throat — ‘^yes; some villain has led her away. But let me 
stand face to face with him, and then ” 

He paused in his low, painful utterance, gazing from me to 
Mary, who stood with her hand upon his arm. 

“And I thought my trouble the biggest in the world,” she 
sobbed; “but you’ve done right, sir, to come for my William. 
He’ll find them if they’re anywhere on the face of this earth, and 
they shall be found. Poor dear! and her with her pretty girlish 
gentle face as I was so jealous of. I’m only a silly foolish 
woman, sir,” she cried, with the tears falling fast, “ but I may be 
of some good. If I’m along with my William when he finds ’em, 
she may listen to me and come back, when she wouldn’t mind 
him, and I’ll follow it out to the end.” 

“ You’re — you’re a good woman,” said HaUett hoarsely, “ and 
may God bless you. But your husband — where is your husband ? 
We must lose no time.” 

“Master Antony!” cried Mary, and then, as if awakening 
once more to her position, and speaking in tones of bitterness^ — 
“ Oh, what has come to my William ? He must be found I ” 

“ Send him on to me,” said Hallett. “ I’ll go back now. 
Antony, will you come ? ” 

“Why, there’s your poor mother, too,” cried Mary, “and all 
alone I I can help her, at all events I ” 

As Mary spoke, she hurried to get her work-a-day bonnet and 
shawl, while Hallett stood gazing at her in a dazed and helpless 

way. 

“ Your pore sister did come and help my pore boy when he was 
bad, and Oh!” 

Mary uttered a fierce, angry cry. Bonnet and shawl fell from 
her hands, her jaw dropped, her ruddy face grew mottled with 
patches of white, and her eyes dilated. Her whole aspect was 
that of one about to have a fit, and I took a step towards her. 

She motioned me fiercely back, and tore at her throat, as if she 
were suffocating. 

“ I see it now ! ” she cried hoarsely, “ I see it now ! Oh, the 
wretch, the wretch ! Only let me find him again I ” 

“ Mary ! ” I cried, “ what is it.? ” 

“ I see it all now ! ” she cried again. “ Then I was right. She 


216 


THE STORY OF ANTORY GRACE. 


come — she come here, and poisoned him with her soft looks and 
ways, and he’s left me — to go away with her to-night f ” 

Mary made a clutch at vacancy ; and then, tottering, would 
have fallen, had not Hallett been close at hand to catch her and 
help her to the couch, where the poor woman lay perfectly 
insensible, having fainted for probably the first time in her life. 

What does she mean ? ” cried Hallett, as he made, with me, 
ineffectual efforts to restore her. 

*^She was angry and jealous the night she came and found 
Linny here attending on Revitts,” I cried in a bewildered way, 
.hardly knowing what I said. And now she thinks, because he 
has left her to-night, that he has gone away with Linny.” 

“ Poor fool I ” he said sadly. 

Revitts was very strange to-day,” I said, ** and — and — and, 
Hallett — oh, forgive me,” I said, “ I’ve kept something from 
you.” 

‘‘ What I ” he cried, catching me so fiercely by the arm that he 
caused me acute pain. Don’t tell me that I have been deceived, 
too, in you ! ” 

^^No, Hallett, I haven’t deceived you,” I said. ** I kept some- 
thing back that I ought to have told you.” 

" You kept something back!” he cried. "Speak — speak at 
once, Antony, or — or — speak, boy ; I’m not master of myself I ” 

" Linny begged me so hard not to tell you, and I consented; on 
condition that she would mind what you said.” 

"Then — then you knew that she was carrying on with this 
man,” he cried savagely, neither of us seeing that Mary had come 
to, and was watching us with distended eyes. 

"No, no, Hallett,” I cried. "I did not — indeed, I did not; I 
only knew it was he who so beat poor Revitts.” 

" Who was he — what’s his name ? ” cried Mary, seizing my 
other arm, and shaking it. 

" I don’t know ; I never knew,” I cried, faring badly between 
them. " Linny begged me, on her knees, not to tell that it was 
her friend who beat Revitts when he interfered, and when she 
promised me she would always obey you, Hallett, I said I would 
keep her secret.” 

" Then Linny was the girl poor Revitts saved,” said Hallett 
hoarsely. 

"Yes!” cried Mary. "The villain! he likes her pretty face. 
I was right ; and I’ve been a fool to faint and go on. But that’s 
over now,” she cried savagely. "I’ll M\ait here till he does come 
back ; for I’m his lawful wife ; and when he does come — Oh ! ” 

Mary uttered that " Oh 1 ” through her closed teeth, and all the 
revenge that was in her nature seemed to come to the surface, 
while Hallett walked up and down the room. 

" You have no idea, Antony, who he is P ” 


THE BRIDEGROOM’S RETURN. 


217 


“No, on my word, Hallett,” I cried; “I never knew. Pray 
fort^ive me ! I thought it was for the best.” 

“ Yes, yes, lad,” he said ; “you did it from kindness. It has 
made no difference. I could not have borne it for you to deceive 
me, Antony,” he said, with a sweet, sad smile lighting his face 
as I caught his hand. “ Come, let us go. Mary, my good soul, 
you are labouring under a mistake. Good-night ! ” 

“No, you don’t!” cried Mary, setting her back against the 
door. “ You don’t go till he comes back. “ He’ll come and bring 
your sister here. And you may take her home. I’ll talk to him. 
What ? ” she cried triumphantly ; “ what did I say ? ” 

She turned, and threw open the door ; for just then a heavy 
step was heard below, and, as if expecting some strange scene, 
Hallett and I stood watching, as step after step creaked beneath 
a heavy weight, till whoever was coming reached the landing and 
staggered into the room. 

« You ” 

Mary’s sentence was never finished ; for her husband’s look, as 
he strode in with Linny in his arms, seemed to crush her. 

** I couldn’t get him, too, but I marked him,” he said, panting, 
“and I’ve stopped his little game.” 

“ Linny 1 ” cried Hallett to the half-insensible girl, who seemed 
to glide from Revitts’ arms, and sink in a heap at his feet, while 
I stood gazing in utter amazement at the turn things had taken. 

“ Mary, my lass ! a drop of something — anything — I’m about 
done.” 

Mary’s teeth grittod together, and she darted a vindictive look 
at her husband ; but she obeyed him, fetching out a bottle of gin 
and a glass, which he filled and drained before speaking. 

“Not so strong as I was,” he cried excitedly. “ Glad you’re 
here, sir. I ketched sight of him with her from the ’bus as we 
come in. I’d a known Mm from a thousand — him as give it me, 
you know. ‘ Look arter Mary,’ I says to Master Antony here, 
and I was after him like a shot, hanging on to the hansom cab 
he’d got her in, and I never left ’em till it stopped down at 
Richmond, at a willa by the water-side.” 

“ Richmond ? ” said Hallett blankly. 

“ Richmond, as I’d been through twice that very day. When 
the cab stops — I’d made the man right with half-a-crown, and 
telling him I was in the police — my gentleman gets out, and I had 
him like a shot. I might have got help a dozen times, but I 
wanted to tackle him myself, as I alius swore I would,” cried 
Revitts savagely ; “ but he was too much for me again. I’m 
stronger than him, but he’s got tricks, and he put me on my back 
after a good tussle — just look at my noo things I — and afore I 
could get up again, he was off, running like a coward as he is. 
But I brought her back, not knowing till I had her under the 


218 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GI^CE. 


gas-lamp as it was Master Ant’ny’s friend and your sister, and 
she’d told me who she was, and asked me in a curious crying way 
to take her back to Master Ant’ny, as she said was the only one 
who’d help her now.” 

“You — ^you brought her home in the cab?” cried Mary 
hoarsely. 

“ Yes, my lass, and it’s cost me half-a-s6v. altogether ; but I’ve 
spoilt his game, whoever he is. Poor little lass, she’s been about 
mad ever since I got into the cab, a-clingiug to me.” 

“Yes,” hissed Mary. 

“ And crying and sobbing, and I couldn’t comfort her, not a 
bit.” 

“ No ! ” said Mary softly, through her teeth. 

“ It was rather rough on you, Mary, my gal,” said Revitts ; 
“ but you would marry a police-officer, and dooty must be done.” 

Mary was about to speak ; but he held up his hand, for Linny 
seemed to be coming to, and Hallett was kneeling on the floor by 
her side. 

“ Mary — Bill,” I whispered ; for the right thing to do seemed 
to be suggested to me then. “ Let us go and leave them.” 

“ Right you are. Master Ant’ny, and always was,” said Bill 
hoarsely; and, passing his arm round Mary’s waist, he drew her 
into the other room, by which time the scales seemed to have 
fallen from poor Mary’s eyes, for the fl rst thing she did, as soon 
as we were in the room, was to plump down on her knees, clasp 
those of her husband, lay her cheek against them, and cry, ready 
to break her heart. 

Probably the excitement of his adventure had had a good effect 
upon Revitts; for the strange fit of petulance and obstinacy had 
passed away, and he was all eagerness and smiles. 

“Why, what a gal you are, Polly!” he exclaimed. “Don’t 
cry, my lass ; I was obliged to go off. Pleecemen ain’t their own 
masters.” 

“Oh, Bill dear,” sobbed Mary, “and I’ve been thinking sich 
things.” 

“ Of course you have, Polly,” he said ; “ and I’ve been wishing 
myself at home, but I knew Ant’ny would take care of you. Poor 
little lass 1 I’ve had a nice job, 1 can tell you. I say, Ant’ny, is 
she quite right in her head ? ” 

“ Oh yes,” I said. 

“Well, she don’t look it then, poor little woman. One minute 
she was begging and praying me to take her home, the next she 
was scolding me for interfering. Then she’d be quiet for a few 
minutes, and then she’d want to jump out of the cab; and it’s 
my belief that if I’d let her go, she’d have thro wed herself into 
the river.” 

“ Poor soul ! ” murmured Mary. 


219 


A QUESTlO^t OF LAW. 

“Then lihe’d take a fit of not wanting to go home, saying that 
she daren’t never go there any more, and that I wasn’t to take her 
home, but to you, Ant’ny ; and that sorter thing’s been going on 
all the time, till she seemed to be quite worn out, and I was so 
nuzzled as to what to do, that I thought I would bring her on 
tiere, and let Mary do what she thought best.” 

“ Did you think that. Bill ? ” said Mary eagerly. 

“ Of course I did. I don’t understand women-folk, and I hate 
having jobs that puts ’em in my care. ‘ Mary ’ll settle it all 
right,’ I says, ‘and know what’s best to be done.’ ” 

“ Antony,” said a voice at the door just then, and I went out 
to find Hailett looking very pale, and Linny lying insensible upon 
the couch. 

“ Oh, Hailett 1 ” I exclaimed. “ Shall Mary come ? ” 

“ Yes — directly,” he said hoarsely ; and there was something 
very strange about his manner. “ Shut the door, boy,” he con- 
tinued. “ Look here, Antony ; this note was inside the neck of 
her dress, as I opened it to give her air. You need not read it; 
but look at it. Tell me whether you have ever seen the hand- 
writing before.” 

I took the letter from him, and looked at the bold, free, rather 
peculiar hand, which I recognized on the instant. 

“ Oh yes I ” I exclaimed, “ often.” 

“ Whose writing is it ? ” he said, pressing his hand upon his 
breast to keep down the emotion that seemed ready to choke 
him. “ Don’t speak rashly, Antony ; make sui’e before you give 
an answer.” 

“ But 1 am sure,” I exclaimed, without a moment’s hesitation. 

“ I have often seen it — it is Mr. Lister’s writing. What does it 
mean ? ” 

“ Mean P ” cried Hailett, in a low, deep voice, as if speaking 
to some one across the room, for he was not looking at me. “ My 
God, what does it not mean, but that John Lister is a villain 1 ” 


CmVPTER XLII. 

A QUESTION OP LAW. 

Stephen Hallett’s model was still at rest; for, poor fellow, he 
had now a fresh trouble upon his hands. 

The excitement had been too much for Linny, and he got her 
home to find her delirious ; a severe attack of brain fever came 
on, and her life was, for many days, hanging by a thread.^ 

I was there every evening, to find that Mary had installed 
herself head nurse, and whenever Hailett spoke to her, she was 
always ready with the one reply : 


220 


7 HE STORY OF ANTONY OllACE. 


Didn’t she come and tend my pore Bill ? ” 

This went on for a time, hut Ilallett insisted, and Mary proving 
obdurate, he talked to Revitts about remuneration. 

“ Oh, never mind about that,” said the bluff fellow. She says 
she’s got plenty of time on her hands, and we’ve both saved a bit, 
and as long as she gets what I want, and is at home when I come, 
it don’t interfere with me; and bless your heart, Mr. Hallett, 
what would life be if one on us wouldn’t do a good turn to 
another ? ” 

Yes, but I cannot feel satisfied to let your good wife work for 
me for nothing.” 

** Ah,” said Bill sagely. “ That’s the worst of eddication, it 
makes a man so uppish. No offence, Mr, Hallett, sir, but you 
being a highly eddicated man ” 

“ Tut — tut 1 nonsense ! ” said Hallett, smiling. 

“ Oh, but you are, you know,” said Revitts. “ Ant’ny says you 
are, and it’s wonderful what a power o’ stuff that there young 
chap’s got in his head. I come the top-sawyer over him when he 
first come up to London ; but. Lor’ bless you ! I give in to every- 
thing out o’ the ornerary in no time. It’s on’y nat’ral that eddi- 
cation should make a man uppish. I’ve felt a deal more so since 
Ant’ny’s give me a lift in spellin’. I always was a good writer, 
but my spellin’, Mr. Hallett, sir ! Ha — ha — ha ! ” he cried, burst- 
ing out in a guffaw ; “ I know now when I looks back at some of 
my old books, it was a rum ’un. Them big words was just like so 
many forty-barred gates to my getting promoted.” 

** I suppose so,” said HaUett ; “ but about payment for your 
wife’s services ? ” 

Why, you do pay me,” said Revitts sturdily. ** She gets 
braxfuses, and dinners, and teas — no end.” 

“ Yes, but that counts for nothing.” 

** Oh, don’t it,” said Revitts, laughing. “ You ask Ant’ny about 
that, and how him and me used to dodge to make the money run 
to good meals. .Look here, Mr. Hallett, sir, I’m only a humble 
sort of a chap, but you’ve always beert kindly to me, and I hope it 
ain’t no disrespect to you to call you a friend.” 

“ I’m only too glad to call you ^ friend,’ Revitts,” said Hallett, 
holding out his hand, which the other gripped like a vice, “ and I 
thank Antony Grace for making me known to two such good 
hearted people as you and your worthy wife.” 

^^Thairiy, sir, for Mary — thanky,” exclaimed Revitts, nodding 
his head. She’s a good one, and no mistake ; and as for her bit 
of temper, Antony,” he said, speaking as if he were very much 
moved, as he turned to me, that bit of rough is like ballast to 
her, and keeps her down ; for, if it wasn’t for her tantrums, I 
believe she’d have been an angel long ago, and then — what should 
1 have done ? Lor’ bless you both, they cMl us pleecemea lobsters, 


A QUESTION OF LAW. 


221 


raw lobsters, to distinguish us from the soldiers, and because we’re 
dark blue and so hard ; but I’m soft enough inside, and that 
woman knows it, too. Well, sir, about this remooiieration — as 
you call it. Look here, she won’t take no money, so I’ll teU you 
what you do by-and-by when she’s nursed Miss Linny back to 
health — as she will, you mark my words if she don’t — better than 
any doctor. It’s a treat to be ill under her. Lord’s truth ! ” 
cried the great fellow, smiling and looking as silly as a fat boy, 

** the way she’d wash my face and neck, and go in an’ out o’ my 
ears with the sponge and towel without hurting, was ’eavenly.” 

Ilallett could not forbear a smile, and I roared. 

“ Ah, you may grin, Ant’ny my lad, but you’ll see, some day 
when you’re on your back, she’s the best nuss that ever lived. 
There 1 

“ She is, indeed, Eevitts,” cried liallett, “ and — Heaven bless 
her ! my poor mother has not been so well for months as she has 
been since your wife has tended her.” 

There, Ant’ny, hear that ! ” cried Revitts. She’s a woman 
to be proud on — that she is.” 

“ That she is, Bill,” I echoed, qlapping the dear old fellow on the 
shoulder. 

‘‘Well, as I was saying,” he exclaimed, “just you give her a 
noo gownd, something bright and with some colour in it, and if 
80 be as she isn’t at home when I get back, p’r’aps you wouldn’t 
mind my coming in for a snack here, for if I don’t get my corn 
regdar I’m nowhere.” 

“ My dear fellow, I shall never be able to thank you enough,” 
cried Ilallett. 

“ Oh, 'that’s all right among friends, ain’t it, Ant’ny ? He 
knows me better, and Mary, too, than you do, so let’s drop all 
that, sir ; and now I want to talk serious to you about this here 
affair. I feel, sir, as a sergeant of police, that I oughtn’t to rest 
till I’ve brought that chap to justice.” 

I saw Hallett start and change colour. Then, getting up, he 
began to walk up and down the room, ending by coming and lay- 
ing his hand upon Revitts’ shoulder. 

“ Revitts,” he said, “ that man has done you a very serious injury.” 

“Never mind about that, Mr. Hallett, sir; I dare say I shall 
put that square. I was thinking about you.” 

“ Yes, and he has done me a deadly injury,” said Hallett, in a 
low, dreamy voice ; “ but I cannot retaliate. You will think me 
strange and weak perhaps ; but I cannot take any steps towards 
punishing this man.” 

Revitts looked disappointed. 

“ I’d been hoping, sir,” he said, “ that you’d got to know who it 
was, and could give me a hint or two, so that 1 could put my hand 
upon him. You know who it is, sirP” 


222 


THE STOliY OE ANTONY ORACE. 


Hallett looked at him searchiiigly, and a deep frown came upon 
his forehead. 

Yes/’ he said, I know who it is ; hut for many reasons I 
cannot stir in the matter. Besides, what could I do ? He has 
committed no punishable offence against me.” 

No, that’s true,” said Revitts quickly ; “ but he has against me. 
Assaulting the police is ’most as bad as high-treason, and if you’ll 
give me his name, sir, or put me in the way of getting a hand on 
him. I’ll give him a twelvemonths’ imprisonment.” 

Hallett shook his head. 

“ No, Revitts,” he said, look upon him as my most deadly 
enemy, and some day I may take the scoundrel by the throat, but 
I cannot help you here.” 

“ Now, that’s where you’re wrong, sir, if you’ll ’scuse me. A man 
mustn’t take the law into his own hands. You think better of it, 
sir. You can’t punish, though he richly deserves it, but I can; 
and if ever I get a chance, I will.” 

Revitts soon after rose to go, Mary having announced her in- 
tention of sitting up all night with Limiy, and Hallett and I were 
left alone. 

“No, Antony,” he said, looking me in the face, just as if I had 
spoken to him on the subject. “My hands are tied; John Lister 
must go free. I can do nothing.” 

“ He deserves flogging I ” I exclaimed, “ and I feel that I ought 
to tell Miss Carr.” 

He started, and half turned away. 

“ Have you told Miss Carr, Antony ? ” 

“ No,” I said, “ I can’t be so mean ; but she ought to know, for 
she believes him to be very true and honourable. I wish some one 
would tell her. Can’t you ? ” 

“ I ? Tell Miss Carr ? Antony, are you mad ? ” he cried, with 
a show of excitement that I could not understand. “ No, I could 
not tell her. What would she think of me?” 

“ Yes, she is so high-minded and good,” I replied, “that she 
would think anybody a miserable talebearer who told her what 
a scoundrel Mr. Lister is. I don’t think she would believe it, 
either.” 

“ No,” he said softly, “ she could not believe such a thing of the 
man she loves.” 

“ Do you know,” I said, innocently enough, “ I don’t think she 
does love Mr. Lister very mucli.” 

His eyes flashed as he looked at me ; but he made no reply, and 
only sat gazing before him in a wistful, saddened way that I did 
not comprehend then as I went on chatting to him. 

“No, I shall not tell her — I couldn’t,” I said. “It would be 
too mean, and yet it would be horrible for her to marry such a 
man as that. Ilave you seen him, since, Hallett ? ” 


A SCENE. 


223 


** Seen him ? — Since P No, Antony, I have not been to the 
office since that night. I could never go there again.” 

I looked at him anxiously, for his ways and looks were very 
strange ; but I attributed everything to anxiety on Linn^s behalf, 
and we very soon changed the topic ; and after hearing the lust 
account about Linny, I rose to go, Hallett coming downstairs, and 
out into the starlit street, walking a few hundred yards with me 
towards my lodgings, before finally taking his leave, and going 
thoughtfully away. 


CHAPTER XLIIL 

A SCENE. 

I HAVE often thought since upon the magnanimity of Hallett’s 
character. Loving Miss Carr, as he did, with a passionate, 
hopeless love, he knew her to be engaged to John Lister, and 
feeling bound in honour to be just to the man he served, he 
crushed down his passion, and hid it in his breast. Hopeless he 
knew it was, from his position ; but, however hopeless, it must 
have been agony to him to hear of his rival’s success. How 
much greater, then, must his sufferings have been when he found 
that the man to whom the woman he adored had promised to 
give her hand was a scoundrel of the basest kind I 

He loved her so well that her future happiness must have 
been his constant thought, and now he learned that she was 
bound to the man who cared so little for the treasure of her love 
that he was ready to engage in any intrigue ; while the very fact 
that the object chosen for this cruel intrigue was Hallett’s own 
sister must have been maddening. 

He must have felt fettered by his position, for he could not 
accuse John Lister to the woman he loved. He felt that he was 
too full of self-interest, and besides, how could he speak words 
that would inflict such a sorrow upon the peaceful life of Miriam 
Carr ? 

No : he felt bound in honour to be silent, and, crushing down 
his love and his honest indignation against John Lister, he sought 
employment elsewhere, and spent his leisure in keeping watch 
over his home. 

He took one step, though, that I did not know of till long 
afterwards; he wrote to John Lister, telling him that his perfidy 
was known, and uttering so fierce a warning against him if he 
pursued Linny, or even wrote to her again, that the careful 
watch and ward kept over the house in Great Ormond Street 
proved to be unnecessary, for the sensual tiger, foiled in his 
spring, liad slunk away. 


224 


THE STORY O'i ANTONY GRACE. 


On the day after my talk with Ilallett, and Revitts’ visit to 
the house, I made my way after office-hours to Miss Carr’s, to 
find my welcome warmer than ever; for she flushed with 
pleasure, and sat for some time talking to me of her sister, who 
had written to her from abroad. 

“ Now, Antony,” she exclaimed, you and I will dine together, 
find after that you shall be my escort to a concert at St. James’s 
Hall.” 

“ A concert 1 ” I exclaimed eagerly. 

“ Yes ; I was about to send the tickets away, but you have 
come in most opportunely.” 

I was delighted ; for I had never heard any of our best singers, 
and we chatted through dinner of the music we were to hear, 
after which I was left in the drawing-room, to amuse myself, 
while Miss Carr went up to dress. 

I took up a book, and began to read; but the thoughts of 
Linny Hallett and Mr. Lister kept coming into my head, and I 
asked myself whether I ought not to tell Miss Carr. 

No ; I felt that I could not, and then I began wondering 
whether the engagement that had been extended might not after 
all come to nothing, as I hoped it would. It was horrible to me 
now, that John Lister should be allowed to keep up ties with my 
patroness, knowing what I did of his character; and yet I felt 
I could not, I dared not, tell. At last, in the midst of my 
contending thoughts, some of which were for telling, some 
against, I forced myself into reading the book I had taken up, 
striving so hard to obtain the mastery over self that I succeeded 
— so well that I did not hear a cab stop, nor the quick step of 
him who had occupied so large a share of my thoughts. 

Ah, Grace,” said John Lister cavalierly, as he entered the 
room unannounced, completely taking me by surprise as I started 
up from the book. “ You here again 1 Well, how’s engineering? 
Like it as well as printing, eh ? Why, you are growing quite 
the gentleman, you lucky dog I I suppose we must shake hands 
now.” 

I felt as if all the blood in my body had rushed to my face, 
and a strange sensation of rage half choked me as I drew 
back. 

Why, what’s the matter with you, boy?” he exclaimed. 

Hold out your hand.” 

“ I’ll not,” I exclaimed indignantly ; how dare you ask me ! 

Dare I ask you — puppy ! ” he exclaimed, with an insolent 
laugh . Why, what do you mean ? ” 

“ How dare you come here?” I cried, my indignation getting 
the mastery of me. 

Dare I come here ! ” he exclaimed, frowning. ** Why, you 
insolent young upstart, what do you mean ? ” 


A SCENE. 


22.7 


** I mean that you ought to be ashamed to show your face here 
again after your behaviour to Mr. Ilallett’s sister.” 

“Hush!’’^ 

As he uttered that word he caught me by the throat, thrust 
his face close to mine, and I saw that he was deadly pale. 

^‘You dog!” he whispered; “if you dare to utter another 
word, I’ll ” 

He did not finish, but gave me a vindictive look that was full 
of threatenings of ill. 

But unfortunately for him, he had hurt me severely as he 
caught me by the throat, and the pain, instead of cowing me, 
filled me full of rage. With one quick wrest I was free, and 
turning upon him fiercely, I exclaimed : 

“I will speak in spite of what you say. You are a coward, 
and treacherous, and no gentleman 1 ” 

“Silence, dog!” he cried, in a hoarse whisper. “Have you 
dared to tell Miss Carr lies about me ? ” 

“I’m not a tell-tale,” I cried scornfully, and I’m not afraid of 
you, Mr. Lister. I would not tell Miss Carr, but I dare tell you 
that you are a coward and a scoundrel ! ” 

He raised his fist, and I believe that he would have struck me, 
but just then his hand fell to his side, and his lips seemed to turn 
blue as he stared straight over my shoulder, and turning hastily, 
I saw Miriam Carr standing white and stern in the doorway, 
dressed ready for the concert. 

“ Ah, Miriam,” he exclaimed, recovering himself ; and he 
forced a smile to his lips ; “ Grace and I were engaged in a 
dispute.” 

She did not answer him, but turned to me. 

“ Antony,” she said sternly, “ repeat those words you just said.” 

“ No, no ; mere nonsense,” exclaimed John Lister playfully. 
" It was nothing — nothing at all.” 

“ Repeat those words, Antony Grace,” cried Miss Carr, without 
seeming to heed him : and she came towards where I stood, 
while I felt as if I would gladly have sunk through the floor. 

For a few moments I hesitated, then a feeling of strength 
seemed to come to me, and I looked up at her firmly as X said : 

“ Don’t ask me. Miss Carr ! I cannot tell.” 

“ Antony ! ” she exclaimed. 

“My dear Miriam ” began John Lister; but she turned 

from him. 

“ Antony,” she cried imperiously, and her handsome eyes 
flashed as she stamped her foot ; “ I insist upon knowing the 
meaning of those words.” 

I was silent. 

“ It was nothing, my dear Miriam,” exclaimed .Tohn Lister, 
Then in a low voice to me, “ Go : I’ll cover your retreat.” 


226 


THE S'-ORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Go, and run off like a coward ? No ; that I felt I could not 
do, and I looked indignantly at him. 

you value my friendship, Antony,” cried Miss Carr, tell 
me, I insist, what you meant by that accusation of iMr. Lister.” 

“ I do — I do value your friendship. Miss Carr,” I cried passion- 
ately, “ but don’t, pray don’t ask me. I cannot — I will not tell.” 

** I command you to tell me,” she cried : and to my young eyes 
she looked queen-like in her beauty, as she seemed to compel 
me to obey. 

Mature thought tells me that she must indeed have seemed 
even majestic in her bearing, for John Lister looked pale and 
haggard, and I saw him again and again moisten his dry lips and 
essay to speak. 

I cannot tell you,” I said ; “ Miss Carr, pray do not ask me ! ” 
I cried piteously. 

Tell me this instant, or leave my house, ungrateful boy ! ” 
she exclaimed passionately ; and, casting an imploring look at 
her, I saw that she was pointing towards the door. 

I would have given the world to have obeyed her ; hut there 
seemed to be something so cowardly, so mean and despicable, in 
standing there and accusing John Lister before the face of his 
affianced wife, that, with a piteous look, I slowly turned towards 
the door. 

It was terrible to me to be driven away like that, and I felt my 
heart swell with bitterness ; but I could not speak, and as I once 
more looked in her pitiless eyes, she was still pointing at the door. 

The liandle was already in my hand, and, giddy and despairing, 

1 should have gone, had not Miriam Carr’s clear voice rang out 
loudly ; 

Stop I” 

Then, as I turned: 

“ Come here, Antony ! ” and the pointing finger was there no 
longer, but two extended hands, which I ran across the room and 
seized, struggling hard to keep back the emotion that was striving 
for exit, for I was but a boy. 

“ My dear Miriam ” began John Lister once more. 

“ Mr. Lister,” she said, and her voice wae very low and stern, as 
she placed one arm round my waist and laid her right hand upon 
my shoulder, ‘‘ will you have the goodness to leave my house ? ” 

My dear Miriam, pray be reasonable ! ” he exclaimed. That 
foolish boy has got some crotchet into his head, It is all a silly 
blunder, which I can explain in a few words. I assure you it is all 
a mistake.” 

"If it is a mistake, Mr. Lister, you have nothing to mind; 

I now wish to be alone.” 

" But, Mii'iam, dearest Miriam, grant me a few minutes’ con- 
versation, I assure you I can set myself right in your eyes.” 


I AJVl FOKGIVEN. 22 ^ 

"If it is all a mistake, Mr. Lister, did you threaten Antonj 
Grace, if he dared to tell me the words I heard ? ” 

“ Because I was angry with him for making such a blunder, and I 
feared that it would upset you. Let me speak to you alone. Miriam 
dear Miriam, you force me to speak to you like this before Antony 
Grace. I tell you,” he cried, desperately trying to catch her 
hand, " I swear to you — what he said is a tissue of lies.” 

" And I tell you,” she cried scornfully, “ that Antony Grace 
never told an untruth in his life. Mr. Lister, I am a woman, and 
improtected. I ask you now to leave my house.” 

" I cannot leave you with that boy, and no opportunity for 
defending myself. I must have a counsellor.” 

“ You shall have one, John Lister,” she said in a low, dull 
voice. “ I will he your counsellor when he accuses you.” 

" Heaven bless you 1 ” he exclaimed excitedly. “ Your loving 
heart will take my part.” 

" My womanly duty, John Lister, and my plighted faith will 
join to defend you from this grave charge.” 

“ Let me stay and plead my own cause, dearest Miriam,” he 
cried, stretching out his hands and fixing his eyes upon hers; but 
her look was cold, stem, and pitiless, and for answer she pointed 
to the door. 

He made another appeal, hut she seemed to be absolute, to 
master him, and at last, trembling, white with passion and dis- 
appointment, he turned and left the room, shrinking from that 
stern, pointing finger, and half-staggering down the stairs. I 
heard him hurry across the hall, and the door closed so loudly 
that the house seemed to he filled with echoes, while his steps 
were perfectly audible as he strode along the street. 


CHAPTER XLIV. 

I AM FORGIVEN. 

" Oh, Miss Carr,” I cried at last, as I broke the painful silence, 
" what have I done ? ” 

She did not answer for some moments. Then, leading me to the 
couch, she threw off her opera-cloak, and sat looking at me for a 
few moments before passing her hand across my forehead to brush 
aside the hair, and kissing me on the brow. 

"What have you done, Antony.? Shown me that I was not 
mistaken in you when I thought you aU that was honest and 
true.” 

I could not speak ; only sat gazing at her face as she fought 
hard to conquer her agitation. 


228 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


Ring the bell, Antony,” she said at last. “ You must bear 
with me to-night, and not be disappointed. Do not let James 
enter the room, but meet him on the landing, and say that I shalJ 
not want the carriage.” 

I hastened to obey her, and then I returned, to stand before her, 
anxious and sick at heart ; but she pointed to the seat at her 
side. 

Antony,” she said, after some time had elapsed, why did you 
not tell me this — this piteous story at once.P Was I not worthy of 
your confidence ” 

“ Yes, yes,” I said ; ^'but how could I tell you ? I dared not.” 

« Dared not?” 

“ I felt that it would be so cowardly and mean to tell tales 
of Mr. Lister, and I hoped that you might find out yourself that 
he was not so good a man as you thought.” 

She drew a long, deep breath. 

“ But you might have caused me the deepest misery, Antony,” 
she said. 

But what could T do ? ” I cried passionately. I wanted to 
tell you, and then I felt that I could not ; and I talked to Mr. 
Hallett about it, and he said, too, that I could not speak.” 

You must tell me now, Antony,” she said, as she turned away 
her face. Tell me all.” 

I drew a breath full of relief, and proceeded to tell her all, 
referring to Linny’s first adventure and Revitts’ injuries, and 
going on to all I knew of Linny’s elopement, to the end. 

But, Antony,” she exclaimed, as I finished, and she now 
turned her face towards mine, can this be true ? Is it certain 
that it was Mr. Lister ? ” 

" Yes,” I said ; “ certain. Plis letters to poor Linny show all 
that ; and she talks about him in her delirium, poor girl ! ” 

‘‘ I cannot believe it of him,” she said j and yet How long 

is it since your friend was hurt ? ” 

I told her the very night, from my pocket-book. 

“ His hands were injured from a struggle, he told me, with 
some drunken man,” she said half to herself. Then aloud, 

Antony, did you see either of these letters ? ” 

Yes ; Mr. Hallett asked me to look at them, to see if I knew 
the handwriting as well as he ; and, besides, in one of her intervals 
of reason, poor Ijinny clung to her brother, and begged him never 
to let IMr. Lister see her again.” 

Did she say why P ” asked Miss Carr hoarsely. 

“ Y es ; she said he had such power over her that she was afraid 
of him.” 

A half-hysterical sob seemed to rise to Miss Carr’s lips, but her 
face was very stern and unchanged. 

Then, rising quickly, as if a sudden thought occurred to her, she 


1 AM FORGIVEN. 


229 


crossed the room to a little Japanese cabinet, and took out a short, 
thick cord, as it seemed to me ; but, as she placed it in my hands, 
I saw that it was a short hair watch-guard, finished with gilded 
swivel and cross. 

She placed it in my hands without a word, looking at me 
intently the while, as if questioning me with her eyes. 

“ That is Linny Hallett’s chain,” I said. She made that guard 
herself, of her own hair. How did it come here ? ” 

Mr. Lister dropped it, I suppose,” she said, with a look of 
scorn hashing from her eyes. It was found by one of my 
servants in the hall after he was gone, and brought to me. I had 
forgotten it, Antony, until now.” 

There was again a deep silence in the room, but at last she 
broke it with an eager question. 

^‘Tell me about this Linny Hallett,” she said. "You have often 
told me that she is pretty. Is she good ? ” 

“ Oh yes, 1 am sure she is,” I said ; " but she is weak and wilful, 
and she must have loved Mr. Lister very much to turn as she has 
from so true a brother as Mr. Hallett.” 

" And — Mr. Hallett — is he a good brother to her ? ** 

" Good brother ! ” I exclaimed, my admiration for my friend 
carrying me away ; " he is all that is noble and patient and good. 
Poor Hallett ! he is more like a father to Linny than a brother, 
and then his patience with his poor mother I Oh, Miss Oarr, 1 
wish you knew him, too ! ” 

She darted an inquiring look at me and then turned away her 
head, speaking no more, but listening intently as I told her of 
poor Hallett’s patience under misfortune, relating the story again 
of his noble sacrifice of self to keep those who were dear to him ; 
of the anxiety Linny caused him, and of his tenderness of the un- 
reasonable invalid he made his care. 

Then, being thus set a-going, I talked, too, of the model, and 
our labours, and again of my ambition to get to be an engineer in 
order to help him, little thinking how I had turned myself into a 
special pleader to the advancement of my poor friend’s cause. 

At last, half-ashamed of my earnestness, I looked inquiringly in 
my companion’s face, to find that she was listening intently, and 
she looked up at me as I ceased. 

" And this Mr. — Mr. Hallett,” she said softly, "is still a workman 
in Messrs. Euddle and Lister's employ? ” 

" Oh no ! Miss Oarr,” I exclaimed ; “ he told me he could never 
enter the place again, and that he dared not trust himself to meet 
ISIr. Lister face to face. He has not been there since, and he never 
will go there now.” 

Miss Carr seemed to breathe more freely as I said these words, 
and then there was another interval of silence, 

" Is Mr, Hallett poor ? ” she asked then- 


230 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


•‘Oh yes, very poor/^ I said. He has been obliged to stop his work 
over bis invention sometimes, because the money has to go to buy 
wine and little choice things for poor Mrs. llallett. She is always 
repining and talking of the days when she had her conservatory 
and carriage, and, worst of all, she blames poor Hallett so for his 
w^ant of ambition. Yes, Miss Carr,” I said, repeating myself to 
willing ears, and he is one of the truest and best of men. He 
was not always a workman, you Imow.” 

Indeed 1 ” she said ; and I saw that she bent her head lower 
as she listened. 

No,” I said enthusiastically, as I, in my heart, set up Stephen 
Hallett as the model I meant to imitate., “His father was a 
surgeon in Warwickshire, and Mr. Hallett was at college — at 
Oxford, where he was working to take honours.” 

Miss Carr’s lips parted as she still sat with her head bent. 

“ He told me all about it one evening. He was sent for home 
one day to find his father dying; and, a week later, poor Mr. 
HaUett found himself with all his father’s affairs upon his hands, 
and that he had died heavily in debt.” 

Miss Carr’s head was slowly raised, and I felt proud then to see 
how I had interested her. 

“ Then,” I continued, “ he had to try what he could do. He 
could not go back to college ; for it took everything, even the 
furniture, to pay off his father’s debts, and then, one day. Miss 
Carr, he had to sit down and think how he was to keep his 
widowed mother, and his sister, and himself.” 

Miss Carr was now sitting with her head resting upon her 
hand, her elbow upon her knee, listening intently to all I said. 

“Mr. Hallett and his father had some type and a little press in 
one of the rooms, with which they used to print poems and little 
pamphlets, and Mr. Hallett had learnt enough about printing to 
make him, when he had taken his mother and sister up to London, 
try and get employment in an office. And he did ; and he says he 
used to be horribly afraid of being found out and treated as an 
impostor ; but by working with all his might he used to manage 
to keep up with the slow, lazy ones, and then, by degrees, he passed 
them ; and now — oh, you should see him I — he can set up type much 
faster than the quickest man who ever came into the office.” 

“ And does he keep his mother and sister now ? ” she said 
dreamily. 

“ Oh yes,” I said ; “ Mrs. Hallett has been an invalid ever since 
Mr. Steplien ITallett’s father died.” 

Miss Carr had sunk back in the corner of the couch, closing her 
eyelids, and I thought I saw a couple of tears stealing down 
her cheeks ; but directly after she covered her face with her 
hands, remaining silent like that for quite half-an-hour — a silence 
that I respecte'"' +o the end. 


HALLETT'a NEW LANDLOKD. 


231 


At last she rose quietly, and held out her hand. 

Antony,” she said softly, I am not well to-night. Forgive 
me if I have disappointed you. Another time we must make up 
for this.” 

Oh, Miss Carr,” I said, you have been so grieved.” 

** Y es, greatly grieved, Antony, in many ways — not least that 1 
spoke to you so harshly as I did.” 

‘‘ But you are not angry with me ? ” 1 said. “ You forgive me for 
not speaking out ? ” 

“ h'orgive you ? ” she said softly — “ forgive you, my boy ? — 
yes. But go now ; I do not feel myself. Good-night, Antony, 
my dear boy ; ^o.” 

To my surprise, sheHooh: me tenderly in her arms and kissed 
me, leading me afterwards to the door, and laying her cheek 
against my forehead before she let me out. 

“ Come to me to-morrow, Antony ; come again to dinner ; 
perhaps the next day I may be leaving town.” 


CHAPTER XLV. 
hallett’s new landlord. 

A YEAR slipped rapidly away, full of changes for some people, 
no doubt ; but to me it was very uneventful. I worked away at 
my profession steadily, liking it better every day, and for nothing 
more strongly than that it gave me knowledge that I felt would be 
of advantage to Stephen Hallett, with whom I grew more intimate 
than ever. 

The home at Great Ormond Street seemed now less sombre 
and desolate ; for since her serious illness, from which poor Linny 
had been literally nursed back into life hj Mary and Hallett, the 
girl was completely changed. 

As she began to mend, I used to find a great deal of time to 
go and sit with her; for her return to strength was very slow, 
and the poor worn face would light up and the great starirg 
eyes brighten whenever I went into the room with some little 
offering or another that I thought would please her. Sometimes it 
would be flowers, or fruit, or any little delicacy that I thought 
she would fancy ; but the greatest pleasure I could give her was 
to take some fresh book, and sit and read. 

She used to lie upon a couch near the window, where she 
could loo?r out upon the sky, and when I was not there I sup- 
pose she would lie like that, thinking, for hours, without speaking 
a word. 

Mary had grown to be quite an institution at the place, and 


232 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


the two invalids at last took up so much of her time, that a 
scheme was one day proposed by me, consequent upon an an- 
nouncement made to me by Hallett. 

We shall be obliged to leave,” he said. “ The tenants of this 
house are going away.” 

But it will be terrible work, Hallett,” I said. ** How wiU 
Linny and Mrs. Hallett bear the change ?” 

“I hope patiently and well,” he said quietly, and the subject 
dropped; but an idea had occurred to me which I hastened to 
put in force. 

My first step was to write to Miss Carr, whom I had not seen 
for many, many months, as, directly after the meeting with Mr. 
Lister, she had gone on the Continent with her newly-married 
sister, whose husband had an official appointment at Marseilles, 
and had resided with her ever since. 

I was grievously disappointed at having to part with so good a 
friend ; but she promised to write to me every week, and gave me 
the strictest injunctions to send to her for ^vice or help when- 
ever I should find myself in need. 

I had no hesitation whatever, then, in asking her in my weekly 
letter for help to carry out my plan, and that was to find Revitts 
and Mary the money to buy the lease of the house in Great Or- 
mond Street, so that Mary would be better able to attend to her 
friends, and, while acting as their landlady, supply me with 
better rooms as well. 

I broached the subject to Revitts and his wife that very 
evening, and the former nodded. 

" How much would it take, Ant'ny ? ” he said. 

The lease would be a hundred pounds,” I said. Then the 
rent is eighty.” 

“ That’s a deal of money, my dear,” said Mary ; " and then 
there’s the rates.” 

“ Yes,” I said ; “ but then look here, Mary ; I should like a 
sitting-room as w^ell as a bed-room now, and I could pay you 
twenty-five or thirty pounds a year for that. I know Mr. Hallett 
pays twenty-six for what he has, and you could, as you often said 
you would like to, let another floor ; for it is a large house. I 
think you would live rent-free.” 

“ There,” cried Revitts, giving the table a slap. “ What do you 
think of that, Polly ? ” 

Think of what ? ” she said tartly ; for the seriousness of the 
subject unsettled her. 

“ What he says. D’ye hear his business-like way of reckoning 
it up : so much for this here, and so much for that there ? He 
couldn’t have talked like that when he come up to London first, 
as green as a bit o’ grass. That’s my teaching, that is. I knew 1 
could sharpen him up.” 


HALLETT’S NEW LANDLOKD. 


233 


" Don't be so conceited, Bill,” she exclaimed. “ But a large 
house means lots of furniture. Master Aiitouy. No, I don’t think 
it would do. We haven’t enough.” 

** But I’ve written to Miss Carr, to ask her to let me have the 
money for you.” 

Revitts got up out of his chair, where he was partaking of tea 
and bread and butter in a rather wholesale style, pulled himself 
together, buttoned up his coat, took a couple of official strides to 
where I sat, and, taking my hand, began shaking it up and down 
for some moments. 

Then he gave Mary three or four wags of the head and nods, 
and went back to his tea, unbuttoning the while. 

‘‘ That’s very nice and kind of you. Master Antony,” she said ; 
**but that money would be only borrowed, and it would have to 
be paid back again, and sit upon us* like lumps of lead till it 
was ” 

“ Oh, nonsense, Mary, I don’t believe Miss Carr would ever 
want it back — I think she’ll give me the money. And besides, I 
mean to furnish my own rooms, so that will be two less.” 

“ Hark at that now 1 ” said Revitts, giving his head a wag. 

I don’t want to seem conceited, but I should like to improve 
my room, and have a place for my books, and be able to bring a 
friend home to have tea or supper with me when I liked.” 

“ That’s quite right,” said Revitts approvingly ; “but we should 
want close upon two hundred pounds. Master Ant’ny, you know.” 

“Yes, you ought to have two hundred and fifty pounds.” 

Mary shook her head, and seemed to tighten up her face, but- 
tering the bread she had before her the while. 

“Here, I say, come, Polly, I know we should have to begin 
saving,” said Revitts, in tones of remonstrance ; “ but don’t begin 
to-night. Stick a little more butter on that there bread.” 

Mary complied, the meal went on, and I left them at last to 
talk the matter over, thoroughly upset by my proposals. 

They opposed them for some days to come ; but when, at last, I 
received a kind letter from Miss Carr, bidding me tell Mary ho'v^' 
glad she was to hear of her plans, and that they were to be sure 
and include a comfortable bed and sitting-room for me, the day 
was carried, especially as the letter contained a cheque for £250 ; 
though they W'ould not take all this, the steady, hoarding couple 
being able to produce between them enough to pay in full for tlie 
lease, which was duly assigned and placed in Revitts’ hands by 
Tom Girtley, who was progressing fast with the nrm of solicitors 
to whoni he had been articled. 

The first intimation that Hallett received of the change was 
from Revitts himself, who called one day ou his way home to 
announce with suppressed glee that he was the new landlord, and 
to ask if there was anything that Mr. Hallett would like done. 


234 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE, 


Hallett stared in astonishment, and then turned sharply to me — 
This is your doing, Antony,” he said. 

I pleaded guilty. 

Well, what could ho better ? ” I said ; ^'T’m going to have two 
rooms, and Mary will be always at hand to attend upon us, and 
you will not have to turn out.’’ 

But the money ? ” he said, looking at me searchingly. 

^^Revitts and his wife have been saving people,” I replied, 
“ and they had their savings to invest. I don’t think they could 
have done better.” 

HaUett did not seem satisfied, but he was too much of a gentle- 
man to push his questions home, and the matter dropped. The 
old tenant of the house moved out at once; Mary had a char- 
woman at work for a general clean up, and ended by dismissing 
her for smelling of gin, and doing the cleaning herself ; and before 
a fortnight was over the change had been made, and I was able to 
congratulate myself on a capital arrangement. 

** You think it is now,” I said, Hallett, don’t you P ” 

I do now, Antony,” he said, “ for more reasons than one.” 

“ What do you mean ? ” I said ; for he looked very peculiar and 
stern, 

“ I have seen that man hanging about here once or twice,” 

Mr. Lister P ” 

He nodded. 

Oh, but surely that is all over. He would never dare.” 

He hates me, I am sure, Antony,” he replied, ** and would do 
anything to injure me ; and, besides, such a man as that would not 
lightly give up his plans.” 

“ But Linny dislikes him now, I am sure,” I said. 

I am not,^’ he replied sadly ; and no more was said. 


CHAPTER XLVI. 


LINNY AWAKES. 

But those words ** I am not,” made no little impression on me, 
and a day or two later, when I had taken Linny in some flowers, 
I was thinking very deeply about them, and perhaps my thoughts 
may have influenced the mind of the poor girl, for she suddenly 
laid her thin white hand upon my arm and said : 

** Antony, do you ever see Mr. Lister now ? ” 

No,” I said ; “ I have never seen him since the day of that 
scene with Miss Carr.” 

“ Tell me about it — all about it,” she said sharply. 

I stared at her aghast, and tried to excuse myself, but her eyes 


LINXY AWAKES. 


285 


looked at me so imploringly that I felt compelled, and related all 
that I had heard and seen. 

She lay with her eyes half-closed during my recital, and when 
it was ended the poor, weak, wasted girl took one of my hands 
between both of hers, and held it to her breast, caressing it 
silently the while. 

“ Oh, Linny, dear,” I said, “what have I done! I ought not to 
have told you all this. You are going to be worse. Let me call 
Stephen ! ” 

“ No, no, no,” she wailed. “ Hush, hush I You must not wake 
poor mamma ! ” 

“ Let me call up Mary.” 

“No, no,” she sobbed; “sit still — sit still, Antony dear ; you 
have always been to me like a brother, and you have known all. 
I have no girl friends of my own age, but I can talk to 
you.” 

“ No ; let’s talk of something else,” I said earnestly. “ You 
must not think about the past.” 

“ 1 must think about it, or I shall die,” she said, adding 
pathetically, “ no, no, don’t get up. I shall be better now. There, 
you see, I have left off crying.” 

She seemed to make an effort over herself, and in a few minutes 
she looked up at me smiling, but her poor face was so wasted and 
thin that her smile frightened me, and I was again about to call 
for help. 

“ No, no,” she said ; “ I am better now. Antony dear, I could 
not get well, but felt as if I was wasting away because T couid not 
see him. Oh, Antony, I did- love him so, and I felt obliged to 
obey him in all he wished. But it was because I thought him so 
fond and true. I have felt all these long months that he loved me 
very dearly, and that if I could only see him — if I could only lay 
my head upon his arm, and go to rest, I should wake up well. I 
always thought that he loved me very dearly, and that some day 
he would come and say I was to be his wife. Stephen thought I 
hated him for his cruel ways, but I did not, I could not. I do 
not even hate him now. I am only sorry.” 

“ But you don’t want to see him again, Linny ? ” I said. 

“ No, no : not now,” she replied with a shudder. “ I know now 
that he never loved me. I never understood it all before, Antony. 
I pray God I may never see his face again.” 

There was something very impressive in her words, and, closing 
her eyes, she lay back there so still that I thought she was asleep, 
but the moment I tried to withdraw my hand she clung to it the 
more tightly, and looked up at me and smiled. 

“ Antony,” she said suddenly ; and there seemed to be & new 
light in her eyes as she opened them wildly, “ I am going to get 
well now. I could not before, for thinking about the past.” 


236 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE 


hope and pray that you will,” I said, with a strange 
sensation of fear creeping through me. 

“ I shall,” she said quickly. I can feel it now. Last week I 
thought that I was going to die. Now talk to me about Miss 
Carr. Is she very beautiful ? ” 

Yes,” I said eagerly, very beautiful.” 

More handsome than I used to be .P ” she said, laughing. 

Oh, she’s very different to you, Linny,” I said, flushing. She 
is tall and noble-looking, and dark, while you are little and fair. 
One could not compare you two together.” 

It was no wonder, then, that Mr. Lister should love her.” 

" Oh no,” I said. Any man who saw her would be sure to 
love her.” 

She sighed softly. 

Is she — is she a good woman ? ” 

Good ? ” I cried enthusiastically ; there could not be a 
better woman.” 

^^And — and ” she faltered, moistening her dry lips, ^'do 

you think she will marry Mr. Lister ? ” 

I am sure she will not,” I said indignantly, 

^^But she. loved him.” 

** No,” I said thoughtfully ; “ I don’t think she did much.” 

** But he loved her.” 

Ye — es, I suppose so,” I said; ^^but he could not have loved 
her much, or he would not have behaved as he did.” 

There was a pause then, during which Linny lay playing with 
my hand. 

“ Antony,” she cried suddenly, ^ -Miss Carr will forgive him 
some day.” 

<< Forgive him ! ” I said. ** Y’es, she is so good a woman that 1 
dare say she will forgive him, but everything is over between 
them now.” 

I am very glad,” she said dreamily, for I should be sorry if 
anything else took place.” 

What ! should you be jealous, Linny ? ” 

No,” she said decidedly, ‘‘ only very, very sorry for her. Oh I 
Antony,” she said, bursting into passionate tears, “ I was very 
ignorant and very blind.” 

Linny, Linny, my child, what is the matter F ” cried Hallett, 
entering the room, and flying with all a woman’s solicitude to the 
couch, to take the light wasted form in his arms. Heaven help 
me, she’s worse. The doctor, Antony, quick ! ” 

“No, no, no,” cried Linny, throwing her arms round her 
brother’s neck ; “ I am better, Steve, better now. It is only 
sorrow that I have been so blind.” 

“So blind, my darling F ” 

“ Yes, yes,” she sobbed excitedly, pressing her hrother’a ^ark 


LINNY AWAKES. 


237 


hair from his forehead, and covering his face with her kisses, 

that I was so blind, and weak, and young. I did not know who 
loved me, and who did not; but it’s all over now, Steve dear. 
Dear brother, it’s all over now.” 

My darling,” he whispered, “ let me send for help ! ” 

^^No, no,” she cried, “what for? I am better~so much 
better, Stephen. That is all taken off my mind, and I have 
nothing to do now but love you, love you all, and get well.” 

Poor little thing ! She lay there clasped in her brother’s strong 
arms, sobbing hysterically, but it was as if every tear she shed 
washed away from her stricken mind a portion of the canker that 
had been consuming her day by day. 

It was more than I could bear, and if it had not been that I 
was called upon to speak to and comfort poor, weak Mrs. Hallett, 
who had been awakened by Linny’s passionate sobs, I should Lave 
run out of the room and away from the house ; but somehow I 
had grown to be part and parcel of that family, and the weak 
invalid seemed to love me like her own son. 

At last, to my inexpressible relief, I saw Linny calm gradually 
down and sink to sleep in her brother’s arms, like some weary, 
suffering child. 

Hallett did not move, but sat there fearing to disturb her, and 
as the evening W’ore on, his eyes sought mine inquiringly again 
and again, to direct my attention to her look : and as I watched 
her in that soft evening glow — a mellow light which told of a 
lovely evening in the country lanes — a soft, gentle calm seemed to 
have come upon tlie wasted face, its old hard angularity had 
gone, and with it that wistful air of suffering and constant pain. 
Her breathing was faint, but it was soft and regular as that of a 
sleeping child, and at last there was a restful smile of content 
upon her lips, such as had not been there for years. 

“ What had you been saying to her, Antony ? ” whispered 
Hallett sternly, as I sat there by his side. 

“ She asked me questions about Lister and Miss Carr,” I said, 
** and I think that she woke up for the first time to know what a 
rascal he is.” 

Hallett looked anxiously at his sister before he spoke again, but 
she was evidently plunged in a deep sleep. 

“ You are very young, Antony, but you are getting schooled in 
nature’s secrets earlier than many are. Do you think that is over 
now ? ” 

“ I am sure of it,” I said. 

“ Thank God ! ” he said fervently, “ for I was in daily dread,” 

“ She would never there,” I said excitedly ; “ she prayed 

herself that she might never see his face again.” 

But they say women are very forgiving, Antony,” he said 
v»..^h a tinge of bitterness ; and then, with his brow furrowing 


238 


THE STORY OF ANl'UNY GRACE. 


but a cynical smile upon his lip, he said, ^Ve shall hear next 
that JMiss Carr has forg'iven him, and that they are married.” 

“ For shame ! ” I exclaimed indignantly. “ You do not know 
Miss Carr, or you would not speak like that.” 

He half closed his eyes after glancing at where his mother lay 
back in her easy chair, asleep once more, for so she passed the 
greater part of her time. 

‘‘ No,” he said softly, ** I do not know her, Antony.” 

I don’t know what possessed me to say what I did, but it seemed 
as if I was influenced to speak. 

“ I wish you did know her and love her, Hallett, for she is 


He started as if he had been stung. 

“ Are you mad ? ” he exclaimed angrily. 

“No,” I said quietly, “ but I think she likes you.” 

“ How could she ? ” 

“ I have talked so much about you, and she has seemed so 
interested in all you do.” 

“ You foolish fellow,” he said, with his face resuming its old 
calm. “ You are too young yet to thoroughly understand such 
matters. When you grow older, you will learn why it was that I 
could not play, as you seemed to wish, so mean a part as to become 
John Lister’s accuser. It would have been contemptible in the 
extreme. ” 

“ 1 could not help feeling that Miss Carr ought to know, HaUett.” 

“Yes, my lad, but you shrank from telling her yourself.” 

He was silent for a minute. 

“Ah, Antony,” he said, “ Fate seems to have ordained that I 
am always to Avear the workman’s coat ; but I console myself with 
the idea that a man may be a poor artisan and still at heart a 
gentleman.” 

“ Of course ! ” 

“My father was a thoroughly honourable man, who left us 
poor solely from misfortune. The legacy he left to me, Antony, 
was the care of my dear mother and Linny.” 

He looked down tenderly on the sleeping girl, and softly stroked 
her hair ; the touch, light as it was, waking her, to smile in his 
face with a look very different from that worn by her countenance 
the day before. 


CHAPTER XLVH. 

MISS CAKB HEARS THE TRUTH. 

I WAS surprised one morning by my weekly letter from Miss 
Carr containing the welcome news that she was coming Vack; 


MISS CARE HEARS THE TRUTH. 


239 


in fact, that she was following' the letter, and it expressed a wish 
that I should meet her at the terminus and see her home. 

It was with no small feeling- of pride that I found myself chosen 
for this duty, and quite an hour before it was possible for the 
train to come in, I was waiting at the station. 

Soon after I saw the carriage drive up, and at last, after looking 
endless times at the clock, I saw the train come gliding in, and 
the next minute I was hurrying along the platform, looking 
eagerly at each carriage in turn, when 1 found myself brushing 
by John Lister, who started and scowled at me as I passed. 

Just then I caught sight of Miss Carr, looking from one of the 
carriages, and handing a bundle of wraps to her maid. 

I ran eagerly up, but only to find myself rudely thrust aside by 
John Lister, who, in his excitement, studied nothing so that he 
could reach her first. 

At last,” he whispered passionately. " Let me be the first to 
welcome you back.” 

Flushed and angry, my fists involuntarily clenched, and I felt 
ready to strike him as I started forward once again. 

I had my recompense, though, directly, for I saw Miss Carr 
draw down her veil, and, completely ignoring the extended hands, 
she beckoned to me, and, summoning up as much importance as I 
could, I said sharply : 

VVill you have the goodness to stand aside ? ” 

He was so taken aback by the determined refusal of Miss Carr 
to renew their acquaintance that he stood back involuntarily, 
recovering himself though, directly, and approaching once more ; 
but he was too late : Miss Carr had taken my arm, and I led 
her to the carriage, the footman, who had seen her, taking the 
wraps and a case or two from the maid, whom he ushered to a 
cab, which was then being loaded with luggage, as I sprang in 
beside my patroness, and gave the word to the coachman, 

I was too young not to feel excited by the importance of my 
position, and as the horses started and the caniage moved forward, 
I think now that I must have been more than human if 1 had not 
darted a look of triumph at John Lister, as he stood there just 
beneath one of the swinging lamps, his brow furrowed and a 
furious look of disappointment and malice upon his face. 

I heard Miss Carr draw her breath as if with pain, but the next 
moment her hands were in mine. 

My dear Antony,” she exclaimed, “ I am very glad to get 
back. Why, my dear boy, what a diiference one year has made 
in you.” 

Has it ?” I said, laughing. 

*‘Oh, yesl Why, Antony, you will soon he grc*wing into a 
man.” 


240 


THE STORY OF ANTOISTY GRACE. 


“ I hope so, Miss Carr ; but I don’t think you look well,” 

«No?” 

“ You look thin and careworn.” 

“ Marseilles is a very hot place, Antony,” she said evasively, 
“ and does not suit English people. Of course, you are my pro- 
perty this evening, Antony. You have no engagement ?” 

^‘No,” I said, smiling. “I should have gone to spend the 
evening with Mr. Hallett if I had been alone.” 

Rer hand gave a slight twitch as I said these words, and her 
voice sounded a little hoarse as she continued : 

You must come and dine with me, Antony, and we will have 
a long, long chat. It seems like old times to be with you again.” 

I was delighted to have her back, and chatted on in the most 
unreserved way, until we reached Miss Carr’s house, where the 
door flew open as the carriage stopped. 

I jumped down, and was in the act of holding out my right 
hand and the carriage-door open with the left, when I started 
with surprise; for a swift hansom cab had brought John Lister 
there before us, and he stood on the other side, holding out his 
hand. 

I must speak to you, Miriam ! ” he exclaimed in a low voice, 
when, seeing her shrink back in alarm, and with an unmistak- 
able look of horror in her face, boy as I was, I felt some sense of 
manhood flush to my cheek, and, feeling no fear of him for the 
moment, 1 placed my hand upon his chest, and thrust him with 
all my might away. 

“ Stand back, sir ! ” I cried, or I call thp police.” 

Ere he could recover from his astonishment. Miss Carr had 
lightly touched my hand, stepped out, and hurried in, while I, 
with my heart beating fast at my temerity, slowly closed the 
brougham-door, and stood facing John Lister. 

‘‘ You insolent dog ! ” he cried threateningly ; and I thought he 
was about to strike me, but at that moment, as I stood before him 
with my teeth set, I would hardly have run in to save my life. 

“ How dare you insult Miss Carr ! ” I exclaimed. 

‘‘ Insult ! Oh, this is too much ! ” he muttered. Then, half- 
raising his hand, he let it fall once more, turned upon his heel, 
and strode away. 

The coachman seemed disposed to speak, but the field being 
now my own, I walked — very pompously, I’m afraid — into the 
hall. Miss Carr coming out of the dining-room as soon as th® 
front-door was closed, to catch my hand in hers, and look eagerly 
in my flushed face. 

“ You have grown brave too, Antony,” she whispered, as she 
led me upstairs. “ Thank you, thank you; I did not know that I 
could look for a protector in you.” 

I had calmed down by the time Miss Carr had dressed ; and 


MISS CAEK HEARS THE TRUTH. 


241 


Tollowed one of tliose, to me, delightful evenings. We dined 
♦-ogether ; she chatted of her life in Southern France, and at last, 
over our tea in the drawing-room, as she was sitting back in her 
lounge-chair, with her face in the shade, she said, in what was 
meant to be a perfectly calm voice : 

“ Well, Antony, you have not said a word to me about your 
friends.” 

I did not answer directly, for I felt a strange hesitation in so 
doing ; and a similar emotion must have been in my companion’s 
breast, for she sat tiiere for some minutes in silence, till I said : 

‘‘ Linny Hallett seems to have quite recovered now, and is 
bright and happy again, though very much changed.” 

Miss Carr did not speak. 

“ Mrs. Hallett is precisely the same. I do not think she has 
altered in the least since I have known her.” 

Miss Carr seemed to turn her face more away from me, or else 
it was the shadow, and now, instead of speaking of Stephen 
Hallett, something seemed to prompt me to turn off, and talk of 
Revitts and Mary, and of how admirably the arrangement had 
answered of their taking the house in Great Ormond Street. 

There seemed to be a slight impatient movement as I prattled 
on — I can call it nothing else. It was not from a spirit of 
mischief, but all the time 1 seemed to feel that she must want to 
know about Stephen Hallett, and somehow I could not mention 
his name. 

“ It is quite droll. Miss Carr,” I said. Mrs. Hallett says that 
it is such an admirable arrangement, having a police-constable on 
the premises, and that she has never before felt so safe since she 
has been in London.” 

You have not spoken to me yet of your friend — Mr. Hallett.” 

I started, for it did not sound like Miss Carr’s voice, and when 
I looked up I could not see her face. 

“ No ; not yet,” I said. “ He is toiling on still as patiently 
and enduringly as ever.” 

And the invention, Antony ? ” 

^^The invention,” I said bitterly, “ lags behind. It is impossible 
to get on.” 

“ Is — is it all waste of time, then ? ” 

“ Waste ? No,” I said. “ The invention is one that would 
carry all before it ; but, poor fellow, he is tied and fettered at 
every turn. He has nearly got it to perfection, but, after months 
of constant toil, some wretched part breaks down, and the whole 
thing has to be done again.” 

“ But is it likely to succeed ? ” 

'^Likely ? ” I said ; it must succeed ; but it never can until it 
has been made and tried. It should be carefully constructed ui 
some large engineering establishment like ours,” 


242 


THE STOTIY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ Yes,” she said, evidently listening intently. 

** But how can it be ? Poor Hallett earns about two pounds a 
week, and the demands upon his pocket, through his mother’s and 
sister’s illness, have been terrible. He is heavily in debt now to 
the doctors.” 

“ Why do you not help your friend, then, Antony ? ” she said 
in tones of reproach. 

Because he will not let me,” I replied quietly. " He is too 
proud.” 

Miss Carr was silent. 

“ What amount would it take,” she said at last, in a strange 
tone, ‘‘ to perfect the machine P ” 

“ Amount ? ” I said eagerly ; “ an awful deal. It is impossible 
to say how much. Why, the patent would cost nearly a hundred 
Poor fellow ! T wish sometimes he would give it up.” 

“ Why ? ” she exclaimed softly. 

“ Because,” I said, “ it is breaking his heart.” 

“ Is — is he so constant in his attentions to ir ? ” 

Oh yes. Miss Carr. Whenever he can spare a minute, be is 
working or dreaming over it ; he calls it his love — his mistress, in 
a half-mocking sort of spirit. Poor fellow, it is a sad life.” 

There was again a deep silence in the room. 

“ Antony,” she said again, “ why do you not help your friend ?” 

“ I do,” I said eagerly. “ I have worked at it all night with him 
sometimes, and spent all my pocket-money upon it^ — though he 
doesn’t know it. He thinks I nave turned some of the wheels and 
spindles myself, but I set some of our best workmen to do it, and 
cut me the cogs and ratchets.” 

And paid for them yourself ? ” 

Yes, Miss Carr. I could not have made them well enough.” 

** But why not help him more substantially, Antony ? With 
the money that is required P” 

“ I help him ? ” I said. 

She did not answer for a few moments, for a struggle was going 
on within her breast, but she spoke at last. Her pride and femin- 
ine shrinking had given way before the love that she had been 
striving these many months to crush, but which was sweeping all 
before it now. 

“ Antony,” she said softly, I can trust to you, I know ; and 1 
feel that whatever 1 help you in will be for the best. You shall 
help your friend Mr. Hallett. My purse shall be open to you, and 
you shall find the means to enable him to carry his project to 
success.” 

“ Oh, Miss Carr ! ” I cried ; and in my new delight I caught and 
kissed her hand. 

She laid one upon my shoulder, but her head was averted still, 
and then she motioned me to resume my seat. 


MISS CARR HEARS THE TRUTH. 


243 


“Does that satisfy you, Antony P ” she said. 

“Yes — no,” I cried, getting up and walking up and down the 
room. “ He would not take the money ; he would be a great deal 
too proud.” 

“ Would not take the money, Antony ? Why ? ” 

“ Because he would know that it came from you.” 

“ And knowing that the money came from me, Antony, would 
he not take it ? ” 

“No, I am sure he would not.” 

“Why?” 

“ Because — because Miss Carr, should you be angry with 

me if I told you the truth ? ” 

She paused again, some minutes, before she replied softly, but 
in so strange a tone : 

“ No, Antony. How could IP” 

“ Because, Miss Carr, I am sure he loves you : and he would 
think it lowered him in your eyes.” 

She turned upon me a look that seemed hot with anger, but the 
next moment she had turned her face away, and I could see that 
her bosom was heaving with suppressed emotion. 

A great struggle was evidently going on within her breast, and 
it was some time before she could master it. At last, however, 
she turned to me a face that was deadly pale, and there was some- 
thing very stern in her looks as she said to me : 

. “Antony, we have been separated for a year, but can you speak 
to me with the same boyish truth and candour as of old, in the 
spirit taught you, my dear boy, by the father and mother you 
have lost ? ” 

“ Oh yes. Miss Carr,” I said frankly, as I laid my hand in hers, 
and looked in her beautiful eyes. 

“Yes, Antony, you can,” she said softly. “TeU me, then, has 
Mr. Hallett ever dared to say such a thing as — as that to you ? ” 

“Never, Miss Carr.” 

“ Has — has my name been made the subject of conversation 
amongst your friends P” 

“Never, Miss Carr.” 

“ Or been coupled with his P ” 

“ Oh I no, no,” I ciied, “ never. Mr. Hallett has rarely men- 
tioned your name.” 

“Then how can you — how can you dare to make such an 
assertion as you did ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” I replied thoughtfully. “ I could not tell you 
how it is, but I am sure he does love you as much as I do, ^lisa 
Carr.” 

“ I believe you do, Antony,” she said, bending- forward and 
kissing my forehead. “But, you foolish boy, drive that other 
notion from your head, and if you do love me, Antony — and I 

16—2 


244 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


would have you love me, my boy, as dearly as you loved her who 
has gone — never speak to your dearest friend of our words to- 
night.” 

“ Oh, you may trust me for that,” I said proudly. 

“ I do trust you, Antony, and I see now that your ideas are 
right about the money. Still, I should like 3^011 to help your friend.” 

“So should I,” I said; and I sat thinking dreamily oyer the 
matter, being intensely desirous of helping Hallett, till it was 
time to go, when an idea occurred to me which I proposed to Miss 
Carr, one which she gladly accepted, joining eagerly in what was, 
perhaps, a deception, but one most truly and kindly meant. 


CHAPTER XLVm. 

AN INVITATION. 

“ Hallo, young Grace,” said Mr. Jabez Rowle, as I was shown 
up one evening into his room, to find him, snuff-box on the table 
and pen in hand, reading away at bis paper, and, as I entered, 
smiling with satisfaction as he pounced upon a literal error, and 
marked it in the margin. “ IIow are you ? ” 

I said I was quite well, and he pointed to several pen marks at 
the side of the column. 

“ There’s reading,” he said contemptuously. “ T’m ashamed of 
these daily papers, that I am. AVell, how are wheels and lathes 
and steam-engines, eh ? Bah ! what a contemptible young sneak 
you were to leave so good a business for oil and steam and steel- 
filings. I give you up now. Glad to see you, though ; sit down. 
Have a pinch of snuff F ” 

“No, tlianks,” I said, smiling. 

“ Humph ! how you grow, you young dog ; why, you’ll soon be 
a man. Better have a pinch ; capital bit of snuff.” 

I shook my head, and he went on, smiling grimly at me the 
while. 

“ No business to have left me, Grace. I should have made a 
man of you. Well, how are you getting on ?” 

“ Capitally,” I said. 

“ Don’t believe it. Better have stopped with me. Heard from 
Peter ? ” 

“ No,” I said eagerly. “ Have you P ” 

“ Yes. Just the samp a^ usual. Down at Rowford still, smok- 
ing himself to death. Ha 1 ! capital pinch of snuff this,” he added, 
regaling himself again. “ Sent his love to you, and said I w'as to 
tell you — tell you — where the dickens did T put that letter ? ” he 
continued, pulling a bundle of slip-proofs out of his breast-pocket, 


AN INVITATION. 


245 


and hunting them over — ** said I was to tell you— ah, here it is — 

to tell you Ah — ‘ Tell young Grace 1 shall come up to town 

and see him some day, and I’ll give you a look up too.’ Bah ! 
Don’t want him : wonT have him. We should be sure to quarrel. 
He’d come here, and sit and smoke all day — where’s my — oh, 
here it is.” 

He took a couple of pinches of snuS in a queer, excited way, 
and snapped his fingers loudly. 

I shall be very, very glad to see him when he does come,” I 
said warmly. 

Ah, yes, of course you will. He’s got some papers or some- 
thing, he says, for you.” 

« Has he ? ” 

“ So he says. Hang Peter 1 I don’t like him, Somehow.” 

There was a comical look of chagrin in the old man’s face as he 
spoke ; but it was mingled with a dry, humorous air that refused 
to be concealed, and I seemed to feel in my heart that if the 
brothers met, Mr. Jabez would be thoroughly cordial. 

“ Well, I’m glad you did condescend to call, young engiue- 
driver,” he said at last ; “ as it happens, I’m not busy to-night. 
You won’t take a pinch of snuff? ” 

I shook my head. 

“What will you have, then P Have some almonds and raisins ? 
Figs? Some oranges? W^ell, some sweetstuff ? They’ve got 
some capital cocoa-nut candy downstairs 1 No ? Well, have 
some candied peel ? ” 

“No, thank you, Mr. Jabez,” I said, laughing. “ Why, what a 
baby you do think me.” 

“ Well, so you are,” he growled. “ You don’t want me to ask 
you to have beer, or grog, or cigars, do you ? ” 

“ Oh no ! ” I said, laughing. 

“ Good job, too, because you wouldn’t catch me giving them to 
you. Well, how’s your policeman ? ” 

“Quite well.” 

“ Ever see Hallett now ? ” 

“ Every day nearly.” 

“ Humph ! Decent fellow, Hallett ; sorry he left us. Cleanest 
proofs I ever had. That man always read his stick, Grace. You 
always read yours ? ” 

“ But you forget I am not a printer now, Mr. Jabez.” 

“No, I don’t, stupid. Can’t you see I was speaking in meta- 
phors ? Always read your stick, boy, through life. When you’ve 
done a thing, go over it again to see if it’s right ; and then, at the 
end, you’ll find your proof-sheets of life are not half so foul. Tell 
Hallett, when you see him again, to give me a look up. I rather 
liked him.” 

“ Why, you never seemed to lilce him, Mr. Jabez,” I said. 


246 


THE STORY uF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ Well, what of tliat, boy ? Can’t a man like anybody without 
always going about -and grinning P ” 

lie took another pinch of snuff, and then nodded and tapped 
his box. 

How’s Mr. Grimstone ? ” I said, smiling. 

Oh, hard as a nut, and as awkward. Gives me a deal of 
trouble.” 

“ And is Jem Smith with you still ? ” 

“ With me? No ; but he’s in a house close by, the great stupid 
lout ! He’s got whiskers now’^, and grown more thick-headed than 
ever. Grimstone had a sharp illness, though, over that affair.” 

“ What affair ? ” I asked. 

“ Why, when the partnership was broken up — you know ? ” 

No,” I said, wonderingly. 

Why, you must have heard. When John Lister was bank- 
rupt. He was dead in with the money-lenders, and he had to 
give up, you know.” 

“ Wliat ! was he ruined ? ” 

“ Ruined ? yes, a gambling fool ; and if Mr. Ruddle hadn’t been 
pretty firm, the rascal would have ruined him too — pulled the 
house down.” 

“ This IS news,” I said. 

“ Yes, and bad news, too,” said the old fellow. “ Five hundred 
pounds of my savings went — lent money — for him to make ducks 
and drakes ! ” 

“Oh, Mr. Jabez,” I said: “I am very sorry.” 

“ Don’t deserve it,” be said, taking another pinch ; “served me 
right for being such a fool. I don’t mind now; I never cry over 
spilt milk, but it nearly broke poor old Grim’s heart. Five hun- 
dred of his went, too, and it was very nearly being more.” 

“I remember something about it,” I said. “ l^u were speak- 
ing on the subject once before me.” 

“ Ah, so we were. Well, it was a warning to me, Grace. 
Temptation, you know.” 

“ Tempt ation ? ” 

“ Yes, to get bonus and high interest. Playing usurer, my 
boy. Serve us both right. Don’t you ever be led on to lending 
money on usury.” 

“ I’m not likely ever to have any to lend,” I said, laughing. 

** I don’t know that,” he said, making another reference to his 
snuff-box. “ Peter said in one of his letters that he thought there 
was some money that ought to come to you.” 

“I’m afraid not,” I said, laughing. “I’ve a long debt to pay 
yet.” 

“ You I — you in debt, you young rascal I ” he exclaimed angrily. 

“ I always said T would some day pay off my father’s debts, Mr. 
Jabez,” I said ; and then my words brought up such a flood of 


AN INVITATION. 


247 


sad recollects ns, that I was about to eagerly change the subject, 
when Mr. Jabez leaned over to rae and took my hand. 

“ Good lad,” he said, shaking it up and down. “ Good lad. I 
like that. I don’t believe you ever will pay them, you know ; but 
I like the sound of it all the same.” 

He kept on shaking my hand some time, and only left it to take 
another pinch of snulf. 

And has Mr. Lister quite gone from the firm ? ” 

Oh, yes, quite, my lad. He was up to his eyes in debt, and 
when he didn’t marry that girl, and get her money to pay himself 
off clear, he went smash at once. Lucky escape tor her. I’m 
afraid he was a bad one.” 

“ And what is he doing now ? ” 

What, Lister ? Set up a rival shop on borrowed money ; 
doing all he can to cut down his old partner, but he’ll do no good. 
Can’t get on. Hasn’t got a man on the premises who can read.” 

“ Indeed 1 ” I said. 

Not a soul, Grace. Why, you wouldn’t believe it, my lad,” 
he continued, tapping me in the shirt-front with his snuff-box, 
but I had one of their Chancery bills in the other day — big 
quarto, you know, pica type — and there were two turned n's for 
m’s in the second page.” 

“ Never I ” I said, to humour him. 

** Fact, sir, fact,” he said, taking another pinch of snuff and 
snapping his fingers triumphantly, Why, I’d hardly forgive 
that in a daily paper where there’s a rush on, and it’s got up 
in the night ; but in a thing like a Chancery bill it’s inexcusable. 
Well, now about yourself, Grac*^. I’m glad you are getting on, 
boy. Never mind what I said ; it’s better than being a reader, 
and growing into a snuffy cantankerous old scarecrow like me. 
Read your stick well, my boy, and I hope — no, I’m sure you’ll 
get on. But I say, what will you have to eat ? ” 

“ I’m not hungry, Mr. Jabez,” I said j and, look here, I haven’t 
delivered my message to you.” 

“ Message ? To me ? ” 

Yes, sir. Miss Carr wished me to ask you if you would come 
and dine with her to-morrow.” 

Me ? Dine with Miss Carr — Carr — Carr ? VV hy, that’s the 
girl Lister was to have married.” 

** Yes — Miss Carr,” I said. 

But me dine with her I Why, she hasn’t fallen in lore with 
me now, has she ? ” 

Oh no,” I said, laughing. " She wants to see you on business.” 
“ See me on business ? Why, Grace,” he said excitedly, “ I was 
to be paid my five hundred out of her money, and wasn’t paid. 
Is she repenting, and ^oiiig to give it to me ? ” 

" No,” I said ; “ I don’t think it’s that.” 


248 


THK STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


“ No, of course uot,” he said thoughtfully. “ Couldn’t take it if 

were. What does she want, then ? Do you know P ” 

I nodded. 

“ What is it, then ? ” 

I am in Miss Carr’s confidence,” I said ; ** and I do not feel at 
liberty to speak about the matter till after you have seen her.” 

“ Let me see,” said the old man ; “ she’s very pretty, isn’t 
she?” 

“ Beautiful ? ” I exclaimed enthusiastically. 

** Humph ! Then I don’t think I shall go, Grace.” 

" Not go ? Why not ? ” 

" These handsome women can wheedle a man out of anything. 
I’ve lost five hundred over Lister, and I don’t want to be wheedl^ 
out of any more.” 

You needn’t be afraid, Mr. Jabez,” I said, laughing. 

Think not ? ” 

I’m sure not. Miss Carr wants to advance some money to 
help some one.” 

“Well, then, let her do it.” 

“She caimot well do it herself, and she asked me if I knew 
anyone, and 1 named you.” 

“ Hang your impudence, then,” he said, taking snuff fiercely. 
“ You know I was fool enough to advance money to Lister, so you 
recommend me as an easy one to do it again.” 

“No, no, Mr. Jabez; you don’t understand me,” I said, laugh- 
ing. “ Miss Carr wishes to find the money, but she wants it to 
seem as if it came through you.” 

“Ohl” 

Here he refreshed himself with his snuff, looking at me sus- 
piciously the while. 

“ Look here, young Grace,” he said ; “ I’m not fond of doing 
things in the dark ; so, as we are old friends, suppose you make a 
clean breast of what all this means. You know, I suppose P ” 

“ Yes, I know everything,” I replied. 

“ Well, then, out with it.” 

“ That I cannot do without being guilty of a breach of confi- 
dence, Mr. Howie,” I replied. “If you will come up to Miss Carr’s 
to-morrow evening at half-past six, you may be sure of a warm 
welcome, and I shall be there to meet you.” 

“ Phee — ew ! ” he whistled, “ how fine we have got to be, 
Grace. Do we dine late every day, sir P ” 

“No ; nonsense,” I said, laughing. “ Miss Carr is very kind to 
me, though : and she wished me to be there to meet you.” 

“ Well, but, Grace, you know,” said the old man, “ I’m such a 

? ueer, rough sort of a fellow. I’m not used to that sort of thing. 

’ve read about it often enough ; but I suppose oh, you know, 

I couldn’t come 1 ” 


MR JABEZ UNDERTAKES A COMMISSION. 


249 


" 1 shall tell Miss Carr you will,” I said, rising ; and after a few 
more words, the old man promised, and I went away. 


CHAPTER XLIX. 

MB. JABEZ UNDERTAKES A COMMISSION. 

Mr. .Iabez was got up wonderfully for his visit to Miss Carr. 
His white waistcoat might have been carved in marble, and his 
white cravat was the stiffest ever made ; but there was a good 
deal of the natural gentleman in the old man, and he took Miss 
Carr dowm to dinner with all the ceremony of the old school. 

Everything was expressly arranged to be very simple, and in a 
very few minutes Mr. Jabez was quite at his ease, while after a 
glass of sherry the old man became pleasantly chatty, and full of 
anecdote, but always treating his hostess with the most chivalrous 
respect, making a point of rising to open the door for her when 
she quitted the room, and we were supposed to be left to our 
wine. 

** Hah, Grace,” he said, coming back to the table, and taking a 
long pmch of snuff; “now I feel a man again. I’ll just have 
three more pinches, and then well go upstairs to that angel. 
Good heavens I ” 

“ What is the matter? ” I said, as, instead of sitting down, he 
began to walk up and down the dining-room, talcing pinch after 
pinch of snuff. 

“ Good heavens I ” he exclaimed again. 

“ Is anything the matter, Mr. Jabez ?” I exclaimed. 

“ Good heavens ! I say. Good heavens ! ” he repeated. 

“ What do you mean P ” I said. 

“ Good heavens I Only to think of it, Grace I ” 

Another pinch of snuff. 

“Only to think, my lad, that he might have had that woman — 
that lady ! A girl as beautiful in her mind as she is in her face. 
"VMiy, Grace, my boy, I’m an old snuffy bachelor because my 
opportunity nevW came, but if I could have mar.ied such a 
woman as that — Hah ! some men are born to be fools ! ” 

“ And you think Mr. Lister was a fool ? ” 

“Fool, sir? He was ten thousand times worse. But there I 
the sun don’t shine on me every day, my boy ! We’ll go upstairs 
at once, and let it shine upon me again.” 

I never liked Mr. Jabez one-half so well before. It was delight- 
ful to me, who quite worshipped Miss Carr, to see the old man’s 
genuine admiration. He seemed quite transformed, and looked 
younger. In fact, no sooner were we upstairs, where Miss Carr 


250 


THE STOKY 01 ANTOHY GRACE. 


was sitting with the urn singing on the tea-table, than he relieved 
me of a difficulty by opening the question of business him- 
self. 

“ My dear young lady,’’ he said, as he sat down, and began rub- 
bing one thin little leg, I know you’ll excuse me for speaking so 
familiarly, but” — he smiled — “ I’m over sixty, and I should think 
you are not more than twenty-five.” 

Miss Carr smiled, and he went on. 

“ Our young friend Grace here tells me that you would like me 
to perform a little commission for you. I only wish to say that you 
may command me in any way, and to the best of my ability the 
work sliall be done.” 

Thank you, Mr. Rowle,” said our hostess. Antony Grace 
said he felt sure I could not have a more suitable and trustworthy 
agent.” 

“ I thank Antony Grace,” said the old man, bowing to me cere- 
moniously, and taking out his snufE-box, which he hastily re- 
placed. 

“ The fact is,” said Miss Carr, hesitating, and her voice trembled 
and her face flushed slightly as she spoke, “ I — oh, I will be plain,” 
she said, as if determined to cast off all false shame ; “Mr. liowle, 
I trust to you not to put a false construction on this act of mine. 
I am rich — I am my own mistress, and I wiU do as Lplease, what- 
ever the world may say.” 

“ You are rich, you are your own mistress, and you have a right 
to do as you please, my dear young lady, whatever the world may 
say,” assented Mr. .labez, tapping the lid of his snuff-box, which 
seemed as if it would not keep out of his hand. 

“ The fact is, Mr. Howie,” continued Miss Carr, “ there is a 
gentleman — a friend of Antony Grace here, who is struggling to 
perfect a new invention — a great invention.” 

Mr. Jabez bowed, gazing at her animated countenance with 
open admiration the while. 

“ To perfect this invention, money is wanted,” 

“ Exactly,” said Mr. Jabez, tapping his box softly. Mon y is 
always useful.” 

“ I wish this gentleman to have that money — as much as is 
necessary.” 

“ You are rich ; you are your own mistress ; you have a right 
to do as you please, my dear young lady, whatever the world may 
say,” said Mr. Jabez, hai-ping upon her words once more. “ It is 
easily settled. Give it him.” 

“No,” said Miss Carr, speaking with animation, “ it is not easy. 
“ You forget what I say. This inventor is a gentleman.” 

“And would be too proud to take the money?” said Mr. 
Jabez quickly. 

“ Yes,” said Miss Carr. “ He would not stoop to be under umi 


ME. JABEZ UNDERTAKES A COMMISSION. 


251 


an obligation. lie would feel insulted — that he was lowering 
himself. I wish to help him/’ she said excitedly. “ I would do 
anything to help him ; but my hands are tied.” 

Humph I ” ejaculated Mr. Jabez softly : ‘‘ and you want me to 
help you ? ” 

Yes, oh yes I And you will ? ” cried IVIiss Carr. 

Of course I will, my dear young lady,” said the old man ; 
** but this requires thought. Would you excuse me if I took just 
one little pinch ? ” 

“ Oh, my dear Mr. Eowle,” cried Miss Carr, pray do not use 
ceremony here. I asked you to come to me as a friend. Pray 
consider that you are one.” 

“Hah!” sighed Mr. Jabez. “Now I can get on. Well, my 
dear young lady, surely we can find a way. In the first place, 
who is the gentleman ? ” 

Miss Carr looked at me. 

“ Mr. Hallett,” I said, coming to her help. 

“ What ? Our Mr. Hallett ? ” said Mr. Jabez. 

“ Yes, Mr. Rowle.” 

“Hum! Well, I’m not surprised,” he said. “He certainly 
always did seem to be a gentleman, and I was very sorry that he 
left our place. So he is working on a great invention, eh P Well, 
he is just the man who would. Then, the first thing is, how is it 
to be done ? ” 

“ Antony Grace thinks, Mr. Rowle, that as you have the 
reputation of being a wealthy man ” 

“ Wealthy ! why I lost five hundred pounds slap the other day 

by Dear me ! Bless my soul ! Oh, tut — tut — tut I What an 

ass I am ! ” be muttered, taking refuge in a tremendous pinch of 
snuff, half of which powdered his white waistcoat and cravat. 

“ I am very sorry to hear that,” said Miss Carr quietly. 

“ Oh, it was nothing. Pray go on, ray dear young lady.” 

“ Antony Grace thought that you might seek him out, and get 
into his confidence a little, and at last, after a show of interest in 
his work, ask him to let you become a sharer in the affair, on 
condition of your finding the necessary funds.” 

“ Of your money ? ” said the old man, with a slight show of 
suspicion. 

“ Of course, Mr. Rowle. Then, if he would consent, which he 
might do, thinking that he was favouring you, the matter would 
be settled.” 

“ To be sure. Of course,” said Mr. Jabez thoughtfully. “ And 
how far would you go, my dear young lady — forty or fifty 
pounds ? ” 

** As far as was necessary, Mr. Rowle. As many himdreds as 
he required.” 

Mr. Jabez tapped his box, and sat thinking, gazing wonderingly 


252 


THE STORY OF ANTONY OR AGE. 


and full of admiration at the animated countenance before him| 
Aa he softly bowed his head up and dowi>. 

** And you will do this for me, Mr. Rowle.^ ” she said. 

If you will trust me, Miss Carr, I will bo your steward in this 
matter,” he said quietly. 

And keep my secret ? He must not know.” 

“ I will be as silent as the grave, my dear, and I thank you for 
placing so much confidence in me.” 

A few preliminaries and the thing was settled. Then, after 
tea. Miss Carr sang to the old man a couple of old-fashioned 
ballads, and he left soon after, I walking home with him, after 
arranging that I was to take him to Great Ormond Street the 
following evening, as if after a casual meeting and a desire to see 
riallett again. The rest was to be left to chance. 

The old man was very quiet and thoughtful, but I noticed that 
our leave-taking was a great deal warmer than it had ever been 
before, and I went back to my lodgings hopeful and eager, feeling 
that the sun was about to shine at last upon poor Ilallett’a 
venture, respecting which I, with him, would not own now that 
there could be such a thing as failure. 


CHAPTER L. 

MB. BOWLE BEGINS HIS TASK. 

PooB Mrs. Hallett was, no doubt, a great sufferer ; and as I grew 
older and knew her better, the annoyance I used to feel at her 
unreasonable ways dropped aside to make room for pity. 

One thing always struck me, and that was, that though she was 
constantly murmuring about Stephen’s wasting time over his 
schemes, and the wretched way 4n which he was constantly 
plodding on, instead of ambitiously trying to rise to some pro- 
fession, it was dangerous for anyone else to speak of such a 
thing. 

At the appointed time I called upon Mr. Jabez, and he accom- 
panied me to Great Ormond Street, looking brighter and younger 
than I had ever seen him look before. His snuff-box was in 
constant, use, and he on the way, after vainly trying to stand 
treat, as he called it, by stopping at the various grocers’ windows, 
and wanting to buy me a box of candied fruits or French plums, 
went on talking about Miss Carr. 

“Antonv Grace,” he exclaimed; '^that fellow will walie up 
some day.” 

“ What fellow P ” 

" Lister. The fool ! the idiot 1 the ass t Why, an earthly 


MR. ROWLE BEGINS HIS TASK. 


253 


heaven was open to him, and he turned his hack upon it. There’s 
a life of repentance for him.” 

** I can’t understand it,” I said. 

“Humph! No,” he continued; and he kept glancing at me 
curiously, as if eager to say something — ^to ask me some question ; 
but he refrained. 

“ I’m glad you liked Miss Carr,” I said at last. 

“ Liked her, boy ? ” he exclaimed enthusiastically ; and he 
stopped in the centre of the pavement. “ There, I suppose I’m 
’ ito an old fool, but that’s no business of anybody. 



TUat young lady, sir, can command Jabez Kowle from this 
moment. Here, come along; the people are looking at you.” 

I thought they were looking at Mr. Jabez, but I said nothing, 
only kept step with him, as he thrust his arm through mine and 
hurried me on. 

“ Of course, what I say to you is in confidence, Antony Grace,” 
he continued. 

“ Of course,” I replied warmly ; “ and let me beg of you, Mr. 
Rowde, to be very careful. Pray don’t let Hailett have any 
suspicion of how your interest has come about ; and, above all, 
he must not think that I have talked to you about his model.” 

“ Hold your tongue, tomtit,” he exclaimed merrily, “trying to 
teach a croaking old raven, getting on towards a hundred. You 
leave it to me. But look here, boy, I’m not blind. This is all in 
confidence, of course. I can see as far into a mill-stone as most 

people. Have Hailett and Miss .Bah, what am I saying ? ” 

he muttered, checking himself suddenly. “ It’s all in confidence, 
and I shall be as close as an oyster. I’ve got my part by heart, 
and you shall see what you shall see.” 

He gave my arm a tight nip, and soon after we reached the 
door, which I opened with my latch-key, and took him into my 
rooms, with which the old man seemed much pleased. 

“ Why, you reckless young hypocrite, this is the way you live, 
is it? Books, eh ? And what are these wheels forr” he con- 
tinued, picking up a couple from the chimney-piece. 

“ The model,” I said quietly. “ Now, what shall we do ? Ask 
Hailett to come down here, or go up ? ” 

“ Send up word that you have an old friend with you, and ask 
if you may bring him up.” 

I took the hint, and Mary came back in a few minutes to say 
that Mr. Hailett would be only too glad to see us. 

We went up, and I saw at once that Hailett had come down 
from the attic. Mrs. Hailett was asleep, and Linny, looking very 
pale and thin, but still restful and better, was in an easy-chair 
with a book. 

“ Ah, Hailett, how do P ” said the old gentleman, in his abrupt 
way. “ Your servant, ma’am,” he added, with a profound bow. 


254 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Ballett looked stern and displeased, and his greetin,^ was cold. 

“ My sister, Mr. Rowle,” he said. “ She has been ill.” 

So I see,” he replied. “ I hope you are getting better, my 
dear child. You must take plenty of fresh air. I came to see ray 
young friend, Antony Grace here, and he suggested that as we 
were under the same roof, I should come and see you. Sorry you 
eyer left us, Mr. Hallett.” 

Plallett bowed. 

Ah,” he continued, taking the chair coldly offered, “lots of 
changes since. I suppose you know the partnership’s dissolved ? ” 
“ Yes, I had heard so,” replied Hallett, glancing imeasily at 


Li 



on with the senior branch,” the old man continued, as 


his eyes wandered about the room, for he was evidently at a loss, 
and I did not know how to help him, so crossed over to sit down 
by and talk to Linny. 

But fate favoured us, for in his hurried descent Hallett had 
brought with him a portion of the mechanism of the model. 

“ Hallo I ” exclaimed Mr. Jabez sharply ; “ what have you got 
there ? Have you, too, turned engineer ? ” 

“ Oh, no,” said Hallett, who was annoyed. “ I — that is — it is 
a portion of a little contrivance of mine.’’ 

“ Oho I ” exclaimed Mr. Jabez, “ I’ve found you out, have I, 
blaster Hallett ! Why, you w'ere always making sketches of 
machinery a.t the office.” 

“ How do you know that ? ” said Hallett sharply, while my 
heart sank, for I felt that our attempt would be a failure. 

“ Old Grim told me. That young scoundrel, Jem Smith, used 
to carry him scraps of paper upon which you had been draw- 
ing.” 

Ilallett’s brow grew more cloudy, but he brightened up directly, 
saying frankly : 

“ Well, yes, Mr. Rowle, I am engaged upon a little invention.” 

“ That’s right,” said the old man warmly ; “ that’s right ; I 
wish I had begun something of the kind when I was young. 
It takes the mind away from the daily mill-horse work. But 
somehow, Hallett, I never could drag my mind away from it, but 
used to amuse myself reading proofs at home. Grace,” he con- 
tinued, turning to me, “ why don’t you take to something ? You 
being an engineer, now, you ought to do something, say, in our 
line. There's plenty of chances there. I know one man,” he 
said, taking up his thin leg and nursing it, “ who has been trying 
for years to perfect a machine.” 

“Oh, Mr. Jabez,” I thought, “you have spoiled all!” for 
Hallett darted a quick glance at me. 

“ The idea occurred to him,” continued Mr. Jabez, tapping bis 
snuff-box thoughtfully, as if it contained the machine, “ that he 


MR. ROWLE BEGINS HIS TASK. 


255 


could make a contrivance that would do away with the necessity 
for setting type.’’ 

“ Indeed ! ” said Ilallett, who drtsw a long breath of relief. 

“ Yes, sir,” said Mr. Jabez ; “his idea was to get the type set 
up in long pipes above a keyboard, like a piano, and every time a 
key was touched with the finger, it pushed out a letter, which ran 
down an inclined plane to an opening, where a tiny hammer gave 
it a tap and drove it along a channel in which the letters formed 
one long line, which was afterwards made into pages and justified.” 

“ And did it answer ? ” said Hallett eagerly. 

“No,” said the old man, taking a pinch of snuff, as Linny and 
I now listened to him attentively. “ The idea was clever, but it 
was too crude. He set up his stick full, Antony Grace, and 
neglected to read it afterwards. He failed at first.” 

. “ Rut you said it was a good idea, Mr. Jabez,*’ I exclaimed. 

“ A capital idea,” said the old man, “ but it was full of faults.” 

“ Faults ? ” said Hallett dreamily. 

“ Y es, sir,” said the old man, growing animated. “ For instance, 
he would only have been able to set one kind of type — one size. 
He couldn’t use italic. He wanted a clever, sensible woman or 
man to work the keys, another to make the type up into lines. 
And he was obliged to have a boy to work the little hammer, or 
beater, to drive the letters along. Then the type would get stuck 
if the letters were not sent down exactly to the time ; for two 
would meet in a lane, and then there was no end of confusion, 
and, after all, the type had to be distributed, and afterwards set 
up in sticks to fill the machine.” 

“ Exactly,” said Hallett, with animation, for the ice was broken. 
“ I had thought of something similar.” 

“ But you did not do it.” 

“No; oh no 1 Composition always seemed to me to require 
the mind of man — the brain to guide it. It seemed to me that 
invention should be applied to something of a more mechanical 
nature.” 

“ Exactly,” said Mr. Jabez. “ You couldn’t make a machine to 
read and correct proofs, or revise a slip.” 

“ Of course not,” said Hallett. 

“Of course not,” said Mr. Jabez. “But, mind you, I’m not 
one of those idiots who rise up in arms against machinery, and I 
don’t say but what our friend might not have gone on and greatly 
improved his machine. For instance, he might have contrived 
another, to do away with the distribution and re-eetting up of the 

type-” 

“ Yes,” said Hallett thoughtfully ; “ it might have been recast 
and replaced by mechanism.” 

“ And always have new type,” said Mr, Jabez eagerly. “ To be 
sure: a capital idea; but I don’t know, Hallett, 1 don’t know. 


256 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


They say you can buy gold too dearly. In the same way, you can 
make a time-saving process too expensive.” 

“ Certainly,” said Hallett thoughtfully ; and I was glad to see 
now that he was pleased to meet the old man. 

It seems to me,” said Mr. Jabez, passing his snuff-box, which 
Hallett received, and, to humour his visitor, partook of a pinch, 
** that an inventor ought to devote his attention to making 
machinery for doing away with a great deal more of our -labour- 
ing mechanical work, and not the careful processes that require 
thought.” 

Printing, for instance ? ” 

“ Ye — es,” said Mr. Jabez ; ** but that ground has been pretty 
well taken up. We have some good machines now, that do a lot 
of work by steam. Why, when I was a boy we used to have the 
clumsiest old presses possible to conceive. I don’t think they had 
been much improved since the days of Caxton.” 

‘‘ And yet there is great room for improvement,” cried Hallett, 
with animation. Mr. Howie, we saw very little of each other 
beyond business encounters, but I believe, sir, that I may place 
trust in your word ? ” 

‘‘ Thank you, Mr. Hallett, I hope so. I’m sure I always placed 
confidence in yours. I am proud to say. Miss Hallett, tliat if 
your brother promised me a slip by a certain time, my mind was 
always easy, for I knew it would be done.” 

“ Oh, nonsense, nonsense,” said Hallett, smiling. Look here, 
Mr. Howie, I feel that you will not betray my confidence, and I 
ask you as a favour to keep private what you see here to-night.” 

‘‘ What I see here ? ” said Mr. Jabez, looking around with an 
assumed look of puzzle, while I felt the colour coming in my face 
as 1 thought of the part I was playing. 

“ I mean what I am about to show you, Mr. Howie,” said 
Hallett, smiling. 

Trust me ? Oh yes, of course, yes — of course,” said the old 
man warmly ; “ here is my hand.” 

Thank you,” said Hallett, taking it. Linny, my dear, you 
will not mind being left alone P ” 

“ Oh no,” she said, smiling ; and lighting another lamp, Hallett 
led the way up to the attic, Mr. Jabez finding an opportunity to 
give me a solemn wink before we stood by Hallett’s bench. 

" I have spent so much thought and labour over this model,” 
said Hallett, “ that you must not be surprised at the jealousy with 
wliich I watch it.” 

“Oh no,” said Mr. Jabez, who proceeded, snuff-box in hand, to 
examine carefully every point in the invention. 

“ Well,” said Hallett, at last, “ do you think it will answer P ” 

In place of replying, Mr. Jabez went all over it again, his in- 
terest growing fast, and being, I was glad to see, evidently sincere. 


MK. ROWLE BEGINS HIS TASK. 


257 


'' I tell you what,” he exclaimed at last, taking a tremendous 
pinch of snuff, that thing would be splendid if you got it right.” 

“ You like it, then ? ” said Hallett. 

Like it ? I think it’s grand. Why, man, it would make 
quite a revolution in the news business. You must get on — ^get 
it perfect.” 

Mr. Hallett shook his head. 

“It takes time and money,” he said sadly. “ It is slow 
work.” 

“ Yes, hut — hang it all, sir ! you should get help. With such an 
important thing in hand you should work on.” 

“ I do not know yet that it would answer,” said Hallett sadly. 

“ But it must answer, sir,” said the old man sharply. “ If that 
machine did not answer, it would not he the fault of the principle, 
hut of some blunder in the mechanism.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” cried Hallett, whose eyes lighted up with 
pleasure. 

“ No, sir : I am sure so,” said the old man. “ The principle is as 
grand as it is simple ; and what I like in the invention is this — 
you have taken up a part of the trade where it is all hand-labour 
— all mechanical. You are not trying to do away with brain- 
power.” 

“I am very glad you like my idea, Mr. Rowle,” said Hallett, 
proceeding to cover his model, which, when set in motion, ran 
easily and well. 

“ I am delighted with it,” said Mr. .Tabez, poking him in the 
chest with, his snuff-box. “ Now, then, go ahead, and have the 
thing made on a workable scale.” 

“But I have not perfected it yet,” replied Hallett. 

“Never mind ; perfect it as you go on. You are sure to find 
some weak spots. If I were you, sir, I should set a good firm of 
engineers to work on that at once.” 

Hallett smiled sadly. 

“ You are proposing impossibilities, Mr. Rowle. This has been 
one of my great troubles, sir : how I was to carry on my project 
when I had completed my model. During the past few days I 
have been thinking of trying to sell the idea for what it is worth.” 

“ What ! and let some fellow without half an ounce of brains in 
his skull reap all the profit ? Don’t you do anything of the kind. 
There’s a fortune in that contrivance, Mr. Hallett. Sir, it is a 
great invention.” 

“ What would you do, then ? ” said Hallett, smiling. 

“Do, sir? I’d— I’d ” 

Mr. Jabez paused, and took a pinch of snuff. 

“ Do, sir, I’d — I’d — I’ll tell you what I’d do. I’d take a partner 
who had money.” 

Hallett shook his head sadly. 


17 


268 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


would advance money to such a dreamer as I am P ” he 
said sadly. 

“ Lots of people, as soon as they saw money in it.” 

Hallett shook his head. 

** You take a very sanguine view of the matter, Mr. Rowle.” 
Not half so sanguine as you, sir. Why, you must have spent 
years of labour, and a great deal of money, over that model.” 

“ I have,” said Hallett sadly. 

“ Then don’t call me sanguine,” cried Mr. Jabez, flying to his 
snuff-box again. “ I ask, here, Hallett, how much would it take 
to produce that thing, patent it, and the rest of it P ” 

I cannot say,” replied Hallett quietly, and with the same sad 
smile upon his face. It is one of those things which keep on 
crying, ‘ More ! more 1 ’ I dare say it would require £300 or £400 
to produce the first machine, and then I have no doubt more would 
have to be spent in perfecting it.” 

“ Yes, I dare say,” said Mr. Jabez coolly, as he uncovered and 
once more began to examine the model; “I tell you what, Hallett, 
I think I know your man.” 

What, a capitalist ? ” 

^‘No, sir; a man with a selfish desire to share in the child of 
your brains.” 

“ Indeed ! ” 

“ Yes ; he hasn’t much money, but I’ll be bound to say that he 
would find enough to carry out your plans for, say, one-third of 
the profits.” 

** Mr. Rowle, are you serious ? ” said Hallett earnestly. 

** I never joke about business matters, Mr. Hallett. As I said 
before, sir, that’s a great invention ; and if you’ll let me. I’ll find 
the money for carrying it on, conditionally that I take one-third 
of the profits the invention makes.” 

You will ! Mr. Rowle ! ” cried Hallett incredulously. 

** I will, sir ; and there’s my hand upon it.” 

“ But do you understand the magnitude of the affair, sir ? ” 
cried Hallett, whose face flushed and eyes glittered with excite- 
ment. 

“Quite so,” replied the old gentleman, diving again into his 
snuff-box. “ The first thing is, sir, to draw out a proper docu- 
ment between us — we can do that without the lawyers. Then 
proper drawings must he made, with description, and the thing 
must be patented.” 

“ But that will take nearly a hundred pounds 1 ” cried Hallett, 
panting ; while 1 sat there hugging myself with delight. 

“ You can have my cheque for a hundred pounds, Mr. Hallett, 
as soon as we have settled the preliminaries ; and I bind myself to 
go on finding the necessary cash for construction as you go on. 
^d now, sir, it’s pretty well my bed-time and I want to be off. 


MR. LISTER IS MOVED ON. 


259 


Do nothing' rashly. This day wof'k I’ll come here ag^ain for your 
answer, which I hope will be yes; for I think it will be a good 
stroke of business for both of us. Now good-night. Antony 
Grace, will you show me the way down to the door ? ” 

They shook hands, and I saw the old gentleman to the street. 

‘‘ There, my boy, wasn’t that done well ? ” he chuckled. But 
look here, Antony Grace,” he added seriously ; I’d have done it 
without Miss Carr, that I would, for I believe in that raaclvine. 
Good-night, boy, I’ll come on next week and — hang it, look at 
that fellow who just passed. He’s as like John Lister as two 
peas.” 

The old man went off, and I returned to my room, where I 
found Hallett waiting for me in a state of intense excitement. 

Antony,” he exclaimed, it is too good to be true. It is for- 
tune at last — success. Good heavens ! it makes me turn giddy. 
Mother — Linny,” he cried, in a low passionate wail, at last there 
is sunshine breaking through the clouds.” 

“ I pray Heaven there may be, Hallett,” I exclaimed ; “ but 1 
have something to say to you.” 

“ What is it ? ” he cried. “ Has the old man repented ? ” 

Oh, no ; you may be sure of him, Hallett. He is delighted at 
the opportunity, and thinks it will lead to fortune.” 

VV hat do you mean, then ? ” 

** John Lister is hanging about this street.” 

** Why ? How ? what makes you say thatP ” 

** I saw him pass the door, just now.” 

His brow darkened, and involuntarily he uttered his sister^S 
name. 

No,” I said ; I don’t believe it of her. He is only trying to 
meet with her once more. I am sure Linny does not know it.” 

You are right, Antony; she cannot know it. We can trust 
her now. Let us go and sit upstairs.” 

As we entered the room, Linny raised her eyes from the book 
'which she was reading, and her calm ingenuous look was sufficient 
to disarm suspicion ; but, all the same, Hallett and I both felt 
that the wolf was prowling about the fold, and that it behoved 
us to see that he had no further chance of carrying ofi our lamb. 


CHAPTER LI. 

MB. LISTER IS MOVED ON. 

We had good reason to know that John Lister was hovering 
about the place, for I saw him several times, and found that 
in Hallett’s absence and mine he had called and endeavoured to 

17— a 


2C0 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


see Linny ; but she had always refused, and on Mary being 
warned, he received such a rebuff that he did not call again. 
Still, however, he hung about, making the poor girl’s life 
wretched, for at last she dared not go to the window for fear 
of being seen. 

Both Hallett and I wondered whether his pertinacity would 
make any impression. While we were in a state of doubt, it 
fell to my lot one evening to become Linny’s escort to a distant 
part of London, and we were on our way back, when suddenly I 
felt her hand tighten upon my arm. 

“ Quick, Antony,” she whispered, ^‘he is there!” 

“ lie is there ? ” I said wouderingly, for I did not comprehend 
her ; but the next moment I caught sight of Lister coming to- 
wards us, and evidently fixing her with his eyes. 

There was a meaning smile upon his lip, and, apparently in- 
tending to ignore me, he was about to speak, when, with a gesture 
of horror, she shrank from him, turned her head aside, and begged 
me to hurry home. 

“ We’ll go home,” I said ; but we will not huriy ; ” and I 
turned and met Lister’s contemptuous stare, as he followed us at a 
little distance till we had reached the house. 

I was annoyed and distressed about this pertinacious pursuit, and 
I had just made up my mind to consult Hallett on the best way to 
put a stop to it, when an idea occurred to me. 

“It is very evident,” I thought, “that Lister does not know who 
lives here ; ” and I laughed to myself as I quietly determined to 
put my plan in force. 

That evening, while Hallett was busy in his attic, slaving away 
with redoubled energy at his model, giving it what he looked 
upon as the final touches before proceeding with the patent. I 
went down as soon as I heard Revitts come in, his broad face ex- 
panding with pleasure as I followed him below to his own particular 
sanctuary, where, while he was enjoying his after-tea pipe, I 
opened ray business. 

“ Revitts,” I said, “ I’m going to take you into my confidence, 
and ask you to keep faith.” 

“ Which you may be sure I shaU do, Master Antony, if so be 
I can.” 

“ Well, you can. Rill,” I replied; and I proceeded to tell him 
how Liimy was annoyed. 

“ That’s very unpleasant,” he said thoughtfully ; “ but is it by 
that same chap ” 

“Yes.” 

“ That’ll do,” he said, drawing a long breath ; “ and lookye 
here, Antony, my young friend, I’m sergeant, and have to set 
an example now to them as is under — them, I mean — no, I don’t 
—I mean those as — who — are under me — that’s right! One’s 


ME. LISTER IS MOVED ON. 


261 


obliged to be partic’ler now. Use of the truncheon forbidden, 
except when obliged; but if T do meet that fellow annoying 
Miss Linnv, I shall be obliged to give him a topper — a hangel 
couldn’t help it.” 

“ No, no, Bill — no, ]Mr. Sergeant,” I began. 

^‘Stow that, Antony, no larks. Bill, please, as afore.” 

Well, then. Bill, that is one of the things you must not 
do. All I want is for you to let him see that you live here, and 
that Miss Hallett is under your protection. He won’t face you, 
and as soon as he finds that you are here he will keep away.” 

** But he must be taken for his assault on the police, Antony.” 

“ No, no : let him go on in his own way. If you take him, 
there will be a great deal of inquiry and exposure that would 
be most painful to all my friends. VVe should have to go into 
the witness-box and be cross-examined, and it would be ex- 
tremely painful to me, both on my own behalf and that of others.” 

“ You wouldn’t like it, Antony ? ” he said. 

** No, indeed I should not,” I replied. 

"That’s enough, dear lad,” he exclaimed, giving the table 
a rap with his fist. " That’s settled ; but I may give him a word 
or two of a sort, eh P Just show him I know him, and move 
him on pretty sharp P ” 

" As much of that as you like,” I said ; " I leave it in your 
hands. What I ask of you is, as an officer, to see that we are 
not pestered by that man,” 

"It’s as good as done, Ant’ny,” he exclaimed, stuffing some more 
tobacco in his pipe. 

" It’s better than done, my dear,” said Mary decisively. " When 
my William says a thing’s as good as done, you may make yourself 
comfortable about it.” 

Revitts said no more about it in the future, only once when 
he met me at the door, chuckling to himself, and shaking hia 
head. 

" What are you laughing at P ” I asked. 

" Only about him,” he replied. " I just run again him at Idle 
corner, and said about six words to him.” 

" Well P ” 

" That’s all,” said Revitts, chuckling. " He showed me the 
back seams of his coat directly ; but I followed him up and moved 
him on. I don’t think he’ll show himself much more about here, 
my lad.” 

Revitts was right. Lister did not hang about our neighbourhood 
80 much after that interview ; but it had the effect of sending him 
back to annoy Miss Carr ; so that, day by day, his actions formed 
a problem that it became very difficult to solve, and we little knew 
then how malignantly he was fighting against Hallett, whose love 
he must have suspected. 


26 £ 


THE STORY OF ANTOXY GRACE. 


Time glided on. Mr, Jabez used to come regularly to Ormond 
Street. The model and its progress seemed to give a fresh in- 
terest to the old man’s life, and, in addition, he took a remarkable 
liking to Linny. Mrs. Hallett, too, showed a fancy for him, 
after a few tearful words of opposition to the way in which he 
encouraged Hallett in his folly. 

“ Folly, ma’am ? it’s no such thing. He’ll be a great man 
yet, and a benefactor to his kind. Spread of knowledge, you know.” 

I don’t understand you, Mr. liowle,” said the poor woman 
plaintively ; but you may be right. All I know is, that it takes 
up a great deal of his time.” 

“ Couldn’t be better spent, my dear madam. Do you know what 
it means ? ” 

‘‘ No,” said Mrs. Hallett, only neglect of his poor suffering 
mother.” 

“ Patience, my dear madam, patience,” said Mr. Jabez. “I’ll 
tell you what it means. Pleasant changes for you ; seaside ; a 
nice invalid-carriage ; silk attire for little Miss Linny here, and 
servants to wait upon you. Bless my soul, ma’am ! ” he cried 
flourishing his snuff-box, and taking a liberal pinch, “you ought 
to be proud of your son.” 

“ I am, Mr. Rowle,” she said, plaintively ; “ but if you would 
kindly oblige me by not taking so much snuff. It makes— 
makes me sneeze.” 

“ My dear madam,” exclaimed the little man, closing his box 
with a snap, “ I beg your pardon. Bad habit — very bad habit, 
really.” 

Linny burst out into a merry, bird-like laugh that made me 
start with pleasure. It was so fresh and bright, and it was so long 
since anything but a faint smile had been seen upon her face, that 
it was like a pleasant augury of happier days to come. - 

The old man turned round and smiled and nodded at her, 
evidently enjoying it too ; and when, some ten minutes after, he 
was going up with me to Hallett’s attic, he stopped on the landing 
and tapped my arm with his snuff-box. 

“ Grace,” he said, “ I am waking up more and more to the fact 
that I have been an old fool 1 ” 

“Indeed I Why?” 

“ Because I’ve shut myself up all my life, and grown selfish and 
crusted. I don’t think I’m such a very bad sort of fellow when 
you get through the bark.” 

“ I’m sure you are not, Mr. Rowle,” I said. 

“ Humph ! Thankye, Grace. Well, you always did seem to like 
me.” 

“ But what do you mean about being an ” 

“ Old fool ? There, say it if you like. I mean about women 
—young girls — ladies, you know. They’re very nice.” 


MR. LISTER IS MOVED ON. 


263 


“Yes, that they are,” I cried eagerly. 

“ Yah ! stuff ! How do you know — ahoy like you P No, no— - 
I mean yes, of course, so they are. I’ve been thinking, you know, 
what might have been, if I’d met with such a lady as that Miss 
Carr, or our pretty little bird there, thirty or forty years ago. 
Hah I I should have been a different man. But I never did, my 
boy, I never did.” 

He took a pinch of snuff very thoughtfully here. 

“ It’s too late now, Grace, too late now. You can’t make 
winter into summer ; and it’s getting to the winter with me now. 
That’s a very nice little thing downstairs. Has she — has she any 
—any ” 

“Lover, Mr. Rowle ?” 

“ Yes.” 

“ Not now,” I said. “ There was one, but it ended unhappily. 
He was a blackguard,” I said warmly^ 

“ Was he, though ? ” he said eagerly. “ That’s right, Grace, I 
like to see you have some spirit. Pgor little lassie ! No father, 
either.” 

“ Mr. Hallett is more like a father to her than a brother,” I 
replied, as I thought it would be better not to mention John 
luster’s name. 

“ Father — father ” said the old man dreamily. “ How 

curious it must be to feel that one is the father of anything ; that 
it is your own, and that it loves you. Now, do you know, Grace, 
I never thought of that before.” 

“ You have always been such a business man, Mr. Rowle,” I 
said. 

“ Yes — yes, grinding on every day, without a thought of any- 
thing but other people’s mistakes, and none about my own. You 
like little Miss Linny there — downstairs ? ” 

“ Oh yes,” I cried ; “ she always seems to have been like a sister 
ever since I knew her.” 

“Hum! Hah! Yes! Like a sister,” he said thoughtfully. 
“ Well, she’s a very nice little girl, Grace, and I lUce her ; but you 
need not tell her so.” 

“ Oh no, of course not, Mr. Rowle,” I said, laughing. ** Shall 
we go upstairs ? ” 

“ Yes, my boy, directly. “ But look here, Grace,” he continued, 
fumbling in his pocket, and bringing out a newspaper slip. “ Hum ! 
hah ! oh, here it is. Read that.” 

He pointed to an advertisement of an elderly couple without 
children, wishing to adopt a young girl ; and I read it, and then 
looked at him wonderingly. 

“ I suppose that sort of thing is done sometimes, eh P ” he said. 

“ I don’t know, Mr. Rowle,” 1 replied. 

“ Hum 1 No, of course you don’t,” he said thoughtfully, after 


264 THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE. 

another pinch. “ Come along upstairs, my boy, and let’* look at 
the machine.” 


CHAPTER LH. 

MU. JABEZ HAS A SPASM. 

There had been some little dispute about the drawing up 'fi. the 
terms between Hallett and Mr. Rowle. The former wovld not 
listen to the old gentleman’s proposition that it should be settled 
by a letter between them, saying t hat it ought to be a proper legal 
document, for both their sakes ; and the knot was solved, as they 
did not wish to consult a solicitor, by my proposing to bring Tom 
Girtley home with me some evening, when the legal training he 
was undergoing migbt prove sufficient for the purpose. 

It was settled to be so, and a few evenings later, I called in 
Lincoln’s Inn Fields, at the offices where Tom was now engaged, 
and he accompanied me to Great Ormond Street. 

Mary had had her instructions to have a “ high tea ” ready for 
us, and her ideas of delicacies took the form of hot baked potatoes 
and cold lobsters ; and upon these, with shouts of laughter, we 
made an attack, for it was wonderful in those days what the 
youthful digestive organs would conquer without fail. Tom 
Girtley had several times been to my apartments, but 1 had never 
introduced him to the Halletts, for there had been too much 
trouble in connection with Linny’s illness for their rooms to be 
attractive to a casual visitor. 

But now times were altered ; Hallett looked brighter, Linny 
was nearly her own merry pretty self again, and Mrs. Hallett, 
perhaps, a little less weak and despondent, which is nnt saying 
much. 

Tom Girtley had altered very much since w^e had become friends, 
having started ahead of me, and a year had changed him from a 
boy into quite a man, at whose hirsute appendages I used to look 
with perhaps just a trace of envy. There was something very 
frank and manly about him, and he had all a boy’s love of a bit 
of fun ; but at the same time, he was full of shrewdness and 
common sense, the former being rubbed daily by his profession 
into a keener edge. 

All in good time INIr. Jabez arrived, according to what was 
fast growing into a regular custom, and he favoured Tom Girtley 
with a short nod and a very searching look. Then together we 
went upstairs, wffiere I saw Mr. Jabez frown as our legal visitor 
was introduced to Mrs. Hallett and Linny, the latter blushing 
slightly at Tom’s admiring gaze. 

The old man uttered a sigh of relief then as Linny rose and 


MR. JABEZ HAS A SPASxM. 


26.5 


helped IMre, Hallett to leave the room during the transaction of 
the business, and I noted that he was very snappish and abrupt 
while the arrangement went on. 

It was very simple, and soon done, Tom Girtley drawing up 
first on foolscap a drah of the arrangement, which was agreed to 
on both sides, and then transferred to a couple of stamped papers, 
signed and witnessed, one being kept by each party to the trans- 
action. 

All this was done in so satisfactory a manner to Mr. Jabez that 
he became somewhat less abrupt to my companion, and even went 
so far as to say that he had never seen a legal document which 
pleased him so well. 

“ Not so many heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns, 
young gentleman,” he said gruffly. “ You lawyers have made a 
lot of money out of those parties in your time. Now”, don’t you 
think we might ask the ladies to step back .P” 

This was done, and we had a very pleasant evening, Tom Girtley 
winning golden opinions for his merry ways, even bringing a smile 
to Mrs. Tlallett’s pale face ; and at last, when it was time to go, 
Hallett exclaimed : 

“ Of course, we shall see you again, Mr. Girtley ? ” 

“May I come ? ” he said eagerly. 

“ If you can find any pleasure in our rather dull home,” replied 
Hallett. “ Good ” 

He was going to say, “ gracious,” but he refrained, and looked 
in a puzzled and amused way at Mr. Jabez, who had kicked out 
one leg under the table, and his foot had come in contact with his 
host. 

“ Spasm ! ” said Mr. Jabez abruptly ; and when Tom Girtley 
went down with me tlie old man remained. 

“ Well, Tom, what do you think of my friends the Halletts ? ” 
I said, as we went down to the door. 

“ I’m delighted with them,” he cried. “ I like Hallett ; and as 
for his sister I say, Tony, are you making play there P ” 

“ Making play ? ” 

“ There, don’t be so innocent, man alive 1 Are you in love with 
her?” 

“ What nonsense I No.” 

“ Then 1 am,” he said. “ I wouldn’t have poached on your 
preserves, but it’s all over with me now. Alas, poor me ! so soon, 
and I am barely twenty. Good-night, old boy, and thanks for a 
pleasant evening.” 

“ Don’t be in such a hurry,” I exclaimed. “ I’m going a little 
way with you.” 

He was in high spiritu, and we were just crossing the street, 
when we came suddenly upon John Lister — so suddei^y, that Tom 
observed my start. 


266 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GKACE. 


** Who’s that ? ” he said quickly. 

One of our black clouds,” I said bitterly. 

** Black clouds ? ” he said, in a puzzled tone. 

And yours, too,” I said, “ if you talk like you did just now.” 

I like solving knotty points,” he said ; “ but you must give me 
a clue.” 

‘‘Not to-night, Tom,” I said. "Say good-night now. Some 
other time.” 

" All right, my mysterious youth,” he cried, laughing ; and after 
shaking hands, I hurried back, to find Mr. Jabez standing at the 
door. 

“ Oh, here you are,” he said. " I am just waiting to say good- 
night. I say, Grace, is that fellow square ? ” 

“ I believe him to be a thorough scoundrel,” I said angrily. 

" He seems quite taken with little Linny there.” 

" 1 Imow that,” I said bitterly. 

" And yet you brought him here, sir.” 

** 1 ? Brought him here?” I exclaimed. "It was going on 
before I knew them.” 

" ^^’^hat ! that boy — that parchment slip I ” he exclaimed. 

" No, no,” I said hastily. " I meant John Lister.” 

As the words were leaving my lips, he of whom I spoke passed 
by on the other side, and turned his face to look up at the second 
floor, the light from a gas-lamp making his countenance perfectly 
clear. 

" Oh ! ” said Mr. J abez softly ; and, after standing watching 
the retiring figure, he too went his way. 


CHAPTER LIII. 

MY VISITOR. 

Two years of hard work rapidly passed away, during which, I 
suppose, I made rapid progress in my profession, and also had the 
satisfaction of seeing Ilallett’s machine grow towards perfection. 

It had progpssed slowly, in spite of the energy brought to bear, 
for Hallett toiled at it patiently and well ; but the work was for 
the most part out of his hands now. 

I had introduced him to Mr. Girtley, who at once took a great 
deal of interest in the scheme, but who rather damped us at first 
by pointing out weaknesses, not of principle, but of construction, 
and at once proposed that before the great machine itself was 
attempted, a working model, four times the size of that so 
laboriously constructed by Hallett, should be made. 

"It means time and expense, Mr. Hallett,” he said, "but over 


MY VISITOR. 


267 


new things we miist be slow and sure. For instance, there will 
be great stress upon certain parts— here — here — and here. I can 
say to you now that these parts must be greatly strengthened, and 
I could make certain calculations, but we can only karu by 
experience what is to be done.” 

There w'as so much good sense in this, that Hallett at once 
ngi-eed, and Mr. Jabez of course nodded approval ; and though it 
took a long time, the trial of the little machine fully bore out Mr. 
Girtley’s prophecies ; so that great moditications bad to be made. 

Yes,” said Mr. Girtley, after the trial, ‘Mt is discouraging, 
certainly ; but is it not better than having a breakdown just when 
your hopes are highest ? ” 

“ Y es, but new moulds can be made, and you will go on at once,” 
said Hallett eagerly. 

Yes, the moulds shall be made, and we will go on at once.” 

“ Mr. Girtley thought me very impatient, Antony,” said Hallett, 
as we walked steadily back from Great George Street, where the 
little inachine had been set up; “ but there are bounds to every 
one’s patience, and I feel sometimes as if the idol I have been 
trying to set up wdll not be finished in ray time.” 

“Nonsense ! ” I cried cheerily, “I guarantee it shall be. I’m 
to have a lot of superintending to do, Hallett, and Til leave no 
stone unturned to get it on.” 

“Thank you, Antony,” he said, “do your best, I grieve for 
poor Mr. Jabez more than for myself. Two hundred and fifty 
pounds of his money gone, and he has nothing yet before him in 
return but an unsubstantial shadow.” 

Miss Carr had been a good deal away from Eiigland during this 
time, visiting her sister, who twice over returned with her to stay 
at Westmouth Street. I had, however, kept her fully informed 
about the progress made by Hallett. In fact, she knew' my inner- 
most life, and as much of the Halletts’ as I knew myself. Those 
were pleasant days, though, wdien she was at home, much of my 
time being spent'with her; and though 1 found that luster had 
made several attempts to see her, and had written continually, he 
had never been successful. 

I learned, too, that Mr. Huddle had interfered in concert with 
some distant relatives of Miss Carr, and they had pretty well 
coerced Lister into more reasonable behaviour. 

He evidentlv, however, lived in the hope of yet resuming his 
old relationship with Miss Carr, little dreaming how well 
acquainted she was with his character, for, in no tale-bearing 
spirit, but in accordance with her wdsh, that she should know 
everything in connection with ray daily life, I had told her of 
Lister 8 continued underhanded pursuit of Linny, news which I 
afterwards found had come to her almost in company with impl/ ir- 
ing letters, full of love, passion and repentance. 


268 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRAC E. 


When! look back upon that portion of my life, it all seems no\9 
like a dream of pleasure, that glided away as if by magic. I had 
no troubles — no cares of my own, save such as I felt by a kind of 
reflex action. I was young, active, and full of eagerness. Hallett’s 
enterprise seemed to be almost my own, and I looked forward to 
its success as eagerly as he did himself. " 

The house at Great Ormond Street was a far less solemn place 
now than it used to be, and many and bright were the evenings 
we spent together. Hallett seemed less sad and self-contained, as he 
saw his mother take a little interest in the group that used to 
form about her chair. For Mr. Jabez appeared to have become 
quite a new man, and there were not many evenings that he 
did not spend at the Halletts’. 

Business, you see, Grace,” he used to say, with a dry 
chuckle. I must be on the spot to talk over the machine with 
11 allett but somehow very little used to be said about business : 
for very often after the first Introduction by the old man, there 
used to be a snug rubber at whist, in which he and Mrs. Hallett 
would be partners against Linny and Tom Girtley. 

For Tom used to come a great deal in those days to see me. lie 
used to tell me, with a laughing light in his eye, that he was sure 
I must be very dull there of an evening, and that it was quite out 
of kindness to me. But, somehow or another, I suppose through 
my neglect, and the interest I took in Hallett’s work, he used to 
be driven upstairs, where his bright, hearty ways made him 
always welcome. For after what looked like dead opposition at 
first, Tom quite won Mr. Jabez over to his side ; and, save 
and excepting a few squabbles now and then, which Mrs. 
Hallett took seriously, and which afforded Linny intense amuse- 
ment, Mr. Jabez and Tom became the best of friends. 

“ 1 don’t think he’s such a very bad sort of fellow, as boys go, 
Grace,” Mr. Jabez said ; “ but look here, my boy, do you see how 
the land lies ? ” 

What do you mean, Mr. Bowie ? ” I said laughing ; that 
Tom and Linny seem to be getting very fond of one another ? ” 

“ Yes,” he said, tapping me on the breast-bone with his snuff- 
box. I spoke to Hallett about it last night, and he said he 
was not sorry.” 

“ Of course not. I am sure he likes Tom,” I said thought- 
fully, as I saw how great an alteration had come about at the 
house, for Linny used to sing about the place now like a bii’d, and 
Mary watched over her like a dragon. In fact, Mary was a 
wonderful institution at Great Ormond Street, and even Mrs. 
Hallett was afraid of her, in so much that Mary’s practical 
ways seemed quite to silence her murmurings, and make her 
take a more cheerful view of life. 

** But look here, Grace,” said Mr. Jabez, don’t you be a young 


MY VISITOR. 


269 


fool. You don’t want to grow into an old bactelor like I 
am.” 

“ I don’t know that T do,” I said. 

“ Then about lunny : does it suit your book for that big- child to 
be coming here and cutting the ground from under your feet ? ” 

Cutting the ground from under my feet ? ” I said merrily. 

Why, what do you mean, Mr. Jabez ? ” 

^^I mean, don’t you be a young noodle, and play with your 
opportunities. Linny’s a very nice little girl, and I shouldn’t be 
a bit surprised if some day she had a few — perhaps a good many 
hundreds of her own. I tell you what it is, Grace, my boy, I 
shouldn’t be a bit displeased if you were to play your cards right, 
and make a match of it wdth that little girl.’’ 

And I hope, Mr. Rowle, you would not be a bit displeased if 
I did not do anything of the sort ? ” 

“ Il’m — m ! No ! I don't know that I should, boy. But, hang 

it all, you are not You have not any one else in your eye. 

You are not thinking about Miss Carr, are you, you puppy ? 

I burst out into a hearty tit of laughter. 

No, Mr. Rowle,” I said merrily. “ I never think about such 
matters, and between ourselves,” I said with much severity, “ I 
am surprised to find a quiet elderly gentleman like you taking to 
match-making.” 

“ Get out, you young dog ! ” he cried. “ There, just as you like, 
only I thought I’d see how you felt about it, that’s all.” 

Mr. Rowle’s words set me thinking, and I could not help 
seeing that though there was no love-making, or anything out of 
the ordinary way in their every-day intercourse, Linny’s old sorrow 
had been completely swept away, and she evidently looked upon 
Tom as a very great friend. 

I w’^as in my own room one evening reporting progress to Hallett, 
who had just come in from the office where he stdl worked as an 
ordinary journeyman. Mr. Jabez was upstairs with Tom Girtley, 
and a quiet rubber of whist was in progress, when Mary came up 
into the room to announce that there was some one downstairs who 
wanted to see me. 

Who is it, Mary ? ” I said. 

Mary glanced at Hallett, who saw the look and rose to go. 

“ Don’t you run away, Hallett,” I cried. “ I’ve no one to see me 
whom you need not know.” 

I stopped there, for the thought flashed across my mind that it 
might be some one from Miss Carr, or perhaps it might be some- 
thing to do with John Lister. 

He saw my hesitation, and said quietly ; 

I shall be upstairs if you want me, Antony. I think I will go 
cow.” 

He left the room. 


270 


THE STORY OE ANTONY GRACE. 


“ Well, Mary, who’s the mysterious stranger? ” I said. 

“ Oh, Master Antony,” she cried excitedly, “ whoever do you 
think it is ? I hope it don’t mean trouble. Some one from the 
country.” 

“ Not Blakeford ? ” I exclaimed, with all my budding manhood 
seeming to be frozen down on the instant, and my boyish dread 
ready to return. 

No, my dear, not old Blakeford,” she said ; but that other 
old Mr. Bowie.” 

Old jMr, Bowie ! ” I cried excitedly, as, like a flash, all my 
former intercourse with him darted back — the day when he came 
and took possession of our dear home ; our meals together ; the bit 
of dinner in the summer-house; and his kindly help with money 
and advice when I was about to run away. Why, I felt that it 
was to him that I owed all my success in life, and my heart smote 
me as I thought of my ingratitude, and how I seemed to have for- 
gotten him since I had become so prosperous and well-to-do. 

“ Yes,” said Mary, “ old Mr. Bowie. He’s standing at the door, 
my dear ; he said he was so shabby he wouldn’t come in.” 

Thank God, I was only a boy still, and full of youthful freshness 
and enthusiasm ! I forgot all my dandyism and dress, everything, 
in the excitement of seeing the old man again ; and almost before 
Mary had done speaking, I was bounding down the stairs to rush 
through the big hall and catch hold of the little old man standing 
on the steps. 

He seemed to have shrunk; or was it that I had sprung up 
from the little boy into a young man ? I could not tell then. I did 
not want to tell then ; all I knew was that the childish tears were 
making my eyes dim, that there' was a hot choking sensation in my 
throat, and that I dragged the old man in. We had a struggle 
over every mat, where he would stop to rub his shoes. I could 
not speak, only keep on shaking both his hands ; and I seemed to 
keep on shaking them till I had him thrust down by the fire in the 
easy-chair. 

Why, young ’im,” he said at last, “ how you have grow’d ! ” 

Why, Mr. Bowie,” I said, as soon as I could speak, 1 am — I 
am glad to see you.” 

Are you — are you, young ’un ? ” he said, getting up out of his 
chair, picking his hat off the floor, where he had set it down, and 
putting it on again, while in a dreamy way he ran his eye all over 
the room, making a mental inventory of the furniture, just as 1 
remembered him to have done of old. 

He seemed to be very little, and yellow, and withered, and he 
was very shabbily dressed, too ; but I realized the fact that he 
was not much altered, as he fixed his eyes once more on me, and 
repeated : 

« Why, young ’un, how you have grow’d ! ” 


MY VISITOR. 


271 


** Have I, Mr, Rowle ? ” I said, laughing’ through my -weak 
tears ; for his coming seemed to have brought back so much of the 
past. 

Wonderful ! ” he said. ** I shouldn’t have know’d you, that I 
shouldn’t, ^^'hy, you’ve grow’d into quite a fine gentleman, rliat 
you have, and you used to be about as high as sixpen’orth o 
ha’pence.” 

** I was a little fellow,” I said, laughing. 

** But you’d got a ’awful lot o’ stuff in you, young ’un,” he said. 
“ But, I say, are you — are you really glad to see me, young ’un — I 
mean, Mr. Grace ? ” 

Glad to see you ? ” I cried. ** I can’t tell you how glad. But 
sit down. Here, give me your hat.” 

Gently, young ’un, there’s something in it. P’r’aps I’d better 
keep it on.” 

No, no,” I cried, catching it from his hands, and forcing him 
back into the easy-chair. 

“ Gently, young ’un,” he said, thrusting one hand up the cuff of 
his long brown coat, which, with its liigli collar, almost seemed to 
be the same as the one in which I saw him lirst^ — gently, young 
’im,” he said ; you’ve broke my pipe.” 

I burst out laughing, and, weak as it may sound, the tears came 
to my eyes again, as I saw him draw from up his sleeve a long clay 
pipe broken in three, and once more the old scenes in the deserted 
rifled house came back. 

‘‘ Never mind the pipe, Mr. Rowle,” I cried. ** You shall have a 
dozen if you like, twice as long as that. But you must be hungry 
and tired. I am glad to see you.” 

Thankye, young ’un,” be said, smiling ; and the old man’s lip 
quivered a little as he shook my hand. “ I didn’t expect it of you, 
but I thought I’d come and see if you’d forgotten me.” 

I ran to the bell, and Mary came up directly, and smiled and 
nodded at my visitor. 

“Mary,” I said, “let’s have some supper directly — a bit of 
something hot. And, I say, bring up that long pipe of Revitts’ — 
the churchwarden, you know. I’ve got some tobacco.” 

“ I’ve got a bit of tobacco,” said Mr. Rowle, “ and — you’ve 
taken my hat away — there’s something in it. Thankye. I thought, 
maybe, they might come in useful. They’re quite fresh.” ^ 

As he spoke he took out a great yellow silk handkerchief, and 
from underneath that, fitting pretty tightly in the hat, a damp- 
looking paper parcel, that proved to contain a couple of pounds of 
pork sausages, which Mary bore away, and returned directly with 
a kettle of hot water and a long churchwarden clay pipe, which Mr. 
Rowle proceeded to fill from my tobacco-jar, lit, sat bolt-upright in 
his cliair, and began to smoke. 

All the intervening years seemed to have slipped away as I saw 


272 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GR^iCE. 


the old man sitting there, a wonderfully exact counterpart of Mr. 
Jahez in shabby clothes; and, as his eyes once more wandered 
round the place, I half expected to see him get up and go all over 
the house, smoking in each room, and mentally making his inven- 
tory of the goods under his charge. 

I went to a little cellaret, got out the glasses, spirit-stand, and 
sugar, and mixed the old man a steaming tumbler, which he took, 
nodded, and sipped with great satisfaction. Then, puffing con- 
tentedly away at his pipe, he said : 

Not all your own, is it ? ” And his eyes swept over the 
furniture. 

“ Yes, to be sure,” I said, laughing at his question, for I took a 
good deal of pride in my rooms, which were really well furnished. 

“ You’ve grow’d quite a swell, young ’un,” he said at last ; and 
then stopped smoking suddenly. I ain’t no right here,” he said. 

I hope you don’t mind the pipe.” 

I’m going to have a cigar with you presently,” I said, laugh- 
ing, ** only we’ll have some supper first.” 

^^Only fancy,” he said; “just a bit of a slip as you was when 
you made up your mind to cut, and now grow’d up. I should 
have liked to have seen what come between. You are glad to see 
me, then ? ” 

“ Glad ? Of course,” I cried ; and then Mary came bustling in 
to lay the cloth. 

“ She’s altered, too,” said the old man, who went on smoking 
away placidly. “ Got crummier ; and she don’t speak so sharp. 
Think o’ you two living in the same house.” 

“ Mary’s my landlady,” I said. “ But this is a surprise.” 

“Ah I Yes,” he said ; “ I’ve often thought I’d come up and see 
Jabez, and look you up same time, I had a bit of a job to find 
you, for Jabez wasn’t at home.” 

“ Mr. Jabez is here,” I said. 

“ Yes ; they said he’d come to see you, and they wouldn’t give 
me the address at first. I’d lost it, or forgotten it, but here I 
am.” 

“ I’ll go up and tell him you are here,” I cried ; and before 
my visitor could say a word, I had run upstairs and completely 
upset all Mr. Jabez Howie’s calculations, which might or might 
not have ended in his gaining the odd trick, and was soon taking 
him downstairs on the plea of important business. 

“ Anything the matter, Grace ? ” he said — “ anything wrong 
with Ilallett ? ” 

“ No,” I said ; “ he’s in his bedroom. Come in here.” 

If I had expected to startle or surprise Mr. Jabez, I should have 
been disappointed, for, upon entering my room, where his brother 
was composedly smoking the long clay pipe, with his yellow silk 
handlferchief spread over his knees, he only said : 


MY VISITOR. 273 

** Hallo, Peter, you here ? ” and went and eat down on the 
other side of the fire 

“ How do, Jabez ? ” said my old friend, without taking his pipe 
out of his mouth ; and then there was silence, which I did not 
care to break, but sat down, too, and looked on. 

“ Come up to-day, ’Peter ? ” said Mr. Jabez, 

Yes.’’ 

“ When are you going back ? ” 

Don’t know.” 

“ Oh ! ” 

Then there was a pause. 

“ Stick to your pipe still,” said Mr. Jabez, taking a loud pinch 
of snuff. 

Yes; never could manage snuff.” 

“ Oh ! ” 

Here there was another pause, broken once more by Mr. J abez. 

“ Where are you going to stay ? ” 

Long o’ you.” 

'*OhI” 

A great many puffs of smoke followed here, and several pinches 
of snuff, as the two old men sat on either side of the fire and 
stared hard at each other, their likeness being now wonderful, 
as far as their heads were concerned. 

“ Hard up ?” said Mr. Jabez at last. 

No. Want to borrow a sov. P ” 

“ No,” said Mr. Jabez shortly ; and there was again a silence. 

“I’ll have a drop of gin and water, Grace,” said Mr. Jabez, 
after a very long and awkward pause for me. 

I mixed it for him with alacrity. 

“ You two friendly ? ” said Mr. Peter at last, making a strenuoTis 
effort to thrust one finger into the bowl of his pipe without 
removing the waxed end from his lips, but finding it impossible, 
without apparently swallowing a goodly portion, from the length 
of the stem. 

“ Friendly ? of course we are. Can’t you see ? ” replied Mr. 
Jabez snappishly. 

“No ! How should I know ? Like him to know anything about 
your affairs P ” said Mr. Peter, turning to me. 

“ Oh yes,” I said. “ Mr. Jabez Rowle is a very great friend of 
mine.” 

“ Right I ” said that individual, giving his head a. nod. 

“ 1 didn’t come up on purpose to see you, Jabez,” said Mr. 
Peter. 

“Who said you did?” snapped Mr. Jabez. “What did you 
come for ? About what you said ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

There was another awkward pause, fortunately broken by IMary, 

18 




274 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


who entered with a tray odorous with hot rump-steak and onions ; 
and as soon as he smelt it, Mr. Peter stood his pipe up in the 
corner of the fireplace, and softly rubbed his hands. 

His brother made no scruple about joining the meal, and as the 
brothers rose, Mr. Jabez held out his hand with — 

** Well, how are you, Peter ? ” 

** Tidy,” said Mr. Peter, and they shook hands as if they were 
cross with each other, and then they each made a hearty meal. 

“ Got a latch-key, Jabez ? ” said Mr. Peter, as, after supper, we 
all drew up round the fire and the visitor from Howford refilled 
and lit his pipe, causing Mr. Jabez to draw off from him as far as 
was possible. 

Y es,” he said shortly. 

"That’s right,” said Mr. Peter; "don’t want to go to bed, 
do you, young ’un ? ” 

"Oh, no,” I said ; "Pm too glad to see you again.” 

The old man’s eyes twinkled, as he looked at me fixedly, 

" Been a good boy, Jabez ? ” he said at last. 

"Who ?— me?” 

" No, no ; young ’un here.” 

" Oh, yes. Can’t you see ? ” 

" Thought he would be, or I shouldn’t have sent him.” 

"Humph I” 

I wanted to talk, but I found that it would be of no use now, so 
I contented myself with studying the brothers, and, just then, Tom 
Girtley came in. 

" Won’t disturb you,” he said quickly ; " just off. Good-night, 
Mr. Rowle, good-night, Tony.” 

"Who’s he ? ” said Mr. Peter, as the door closed. 

" A friend of mine — a young solicitor.” 

" Any good P — Trust him ? ” said Mr. Peter quickly. 

" Yes, he is very clever in his profession,” I said wonderingly. 

"Call him back, then,” said Peter. "I’ve got something 
for him to hear.” 


CHAPTER LIV. 

PETER ROWLE’s BARGAIN. 

I WAS just in time to call Tom Girtley back as he reached the 
corner of the street, and he came up into my room, wondering, for 
the hour was getting late ; but he took a chair quietly, and waited 
for what Mr. Peter had to say. 

"Well, it ain’t much,” said the latter; "but it may mean a 
g^od deal. S’pose, sir, you just cast your eye over them there ? ” 
He took a packet of papers, tied with red tape, and docketed. 


PETER RO WIFE’S BARGAIT^. 


275 


out of his pocket, and passed them over to Tom Girt ley, who im- 
mediately opened them in a very business-like way, and proceeded 
rapidly to mentally summarise their contents. 

This took him some little time, during’ which we all sat very 
still, Mr. Peter giving me a very knowing look or two in the 
interval. 

“ These are very important documents, sir,” said Tom Girtley 
quietly. “ I must, of course, warn you that I am only a young 
member of my profession, and wanting in experience ; but, as far 
as I can judge, these are the private memoranda and certain 
deeds and documents of Mr. Edward Grace, of ” 

“ My father ! ” I exclaimed excitedly, “ How did you get 
these papers, Mr. Rowle ? ” 

“ Bought ’em,” said the old gentleman quietly. 

You bought them ? ” 

^^To be sure I did. Old Blakeford thought he’d taken 
possession of all your father’s papers, my boy, after his death, but 
he didn’t.” 

“ How did you get them, then ? ” said Mr. Jabez sharply. 

“ Bought ’em, I tell you. It was like this : old Blakeford put 
me in possession at the house of a man who had borrowed money 
of him, and he was going to sell him up — you know his ways, 
young ’un — I mean Mr. Grace. Well, I went there one night, 
and very wild the poor fellow was, and he went straight to a 
bureau, that I seemed to have seen before, and began to go over 
his papers, tying up some and burning others, and going on and 
calling old Blakeford names all the while. ‘ Ah,’ he says, all at 
once, ‘ I bought this writing-table and drawers at Grace’s sale, 
when Blakeford sold the furniture. Look here,’ he said, Hhis 
lot of papers was in one of the back drawers. They belonged to 
old Grace, I suppose,’ and he was about to pitch them into the 
fire with his own letters and things, of which there wasquite a heap. 

** ‘ Don’t do that,’ I says ; ‘ they may be of value.’ 

^^^Not they,’ he says; ^ if they’d been worth anything old 
Blakeford wouldn’t have left them. They aren’t worth tuppencel' 

‘ I’ll give you tuppence for them,’ I says. 

** ‘ Pay up,’ he sajs, and I handed him the twopence, and took 
the papers. I’ve read ’em, and think they’re worth the money.” 

W orth the money ! ” cried Tom Girtley ; why, they may be 
worth ten thousand pounds ; but I can say nothing till I have 
gone into the case ; and I daresay it would be necessary to make 
Mr. Blakeford supply some of the connecting links.” 

Which he won’t do,” said Mr. Peter quietly. 

Unless he’s obliged,” said Tom Girtley. There are means of 
making ^ven a solicitor speak, Mr. Rowle,” he continued. “Will 
you take these papers ? ” 

“ No,” said Mr. Peter ; “ give ’em to Mr. Grace there. They 

18—2 


276 


THE STORY OF ANTONI GRACE. 


were his father’s, Blakeford’s pitched me over, because I got old 
and useless, so I shan’t try to screen him in the least.” 

Tom Girtley folded and tied up the papers, and handed them 
to me ; hut I refused to take them. 

Keep them and study them,” I said ; perhaps they will not 
prove to be so valuable when you have given them a fresh perusal.” 

He nodded and placed the packet in his breast-pocket, all 
three then rising to go, for it was past twelve, and as Tom 
Girtley and I stood at the door, we saw the two old men go 
down the street, arm-in-arm, till they passed by the lamp-post 
and disappeared. Then, after a hearty good-night, Tom Girtley 
took his departure, and I went up to bed, to lie for hours 
thinking about my life with Mr. Blakeford, and wondering 
whether he had defrauded me over the question of my father’s 
property. I had always felt that I was in his debt, and meant 
some day to repay him all he said that my father owed ; in fact. 
Miss Carr had been so liberal to me in the way of pocket-money, 
that I had forty pounds saved up for that purpose ; but now this 
came like a revelation, and there was a delightful feeling of 
triumph in the idea that I might perhaps bring a thorough 
scoundrel to book. Then all at once I began to think about Hetty 
— pretty, gentle little Hetty, who had been so kind to me when 
I was a miserable unhappy boy, and the hours when I saw her 
seemed like gleams of light amono-st so much darkness. 

What would Hetty be like after all these years, I wondered ; 
and then I began to blame myself for not asking Mr. Rowle 
more about her, and at last, with the memory of the bright 
affectionate child filling my thoughts, I dropped off to sleep, to 
dream once more about Mr. Blakeford, and that I was on the 
road, with him in full chase. 

It was quite a treat to get out of bed and away from the night- 
mare-like dreams of the past, and after a sharp walk and break- 
fast, I made my way round by Mr. Jabez Howie’s lodgings, to 
have a few words with Mr. Peter, before going to Lambeth. 

I found the old man alone, smoking a long pipe with his hat 
on, and his brother gone. 

His face lit up as he saw me, and after a little conversation 
about the past — 

** W’hen are you going back to Rowford ? ” I said. 

** Want to get rid of me ? ” he replied. 

No, no, of course not.” 

Don’t know that I’m going back at all,” he said. Jabez and 
I haven’t seen much of each other lately. Think I shall stay.” 

“ Did — have — did you ever see much of Miss Blakeford ? ” I 
said, feeling conscious as I spoke that I was growing hot. 

Often,” said the old man, looking at me intently.- ^'She 
often asked about you.” 


THE DAY OF TRIUMPH. 


277 


“ About me ? ” I said. 

" Yes : how you got on, and whether you were coming hack.” 

" What is she like now ? ” I said. Of course she is not a 
little girl now.” 

Little girl ? No : I should think not. Grow’d into an angel, 
that’s what she is.” 

I could not ask any more, but promising to go in and see him 
in the evening, I hurried off to the works, thinking that I should 
very much like to see Hetty Blakeford again, and wondering 
whether she would see much change in me. 

In another hour Rowford was forgotten, and I was deep in the 
preparations for Hallett’s machine, which was rapidly approach- 
ing completion ; while a fortnight later I was dining with Miss 
Carr, and bearing her th^e news of the successful point to which 
Hallett had climbed, making her flush with pleasure, as I told 
her that the machine was to be set up at Mr. Ruddle’s place 
of business, and be tried there. 

‘‘ Send me word the day and hour of the trial, Antony,” she 
said, in a low voice. 

** Will you come ?” I said eagerly. 

No, Antony, no,” she said softly. ** I could not come, but I 
shall pray for a triumphant success.” 

She spoke warmly, for she seemed off her guard, and then 
hurriedly changed the conversation. 


CHAPTER LV. 

THE DAY OP TRIUMPH. 

The day of trial came at last ; and after a sleepless night, I was 
trying to make a good breakfast before going down to Mr. Ruddle’s 
with the inventor. 

I believe I felt as nervous and excited as Hallett himself ; for 
Mr. Ruddle had spoken to me the night before about some 
unpleasant suspicions that he had. 

I don’t like to accuse anybody, Grace,” he said ; ** but I’m afraid 
a certain person who shall be nameless has been setting some of 
the ignorant, drunken loafers of the trade against the machine.” 

That w^as all then, but it was enough to malie me uneasy, though 
I did not believe in the possibility of any trade outrage in the 
middle of London. 

Hallett looked very pale, but I never saw him seem more manly, 
thoughtful, and handsome, as he stood there in his mother’s room, 
holding her hands. 

I shall come back, dear,” he said, kissing her tenderly, ** tell- 


278 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


mg^ you of my success. No, no, don’t shake your head. Good-by\ 
dear, wish me success. Good-bye, Linny, darling; I Ah ! Mr. 
Girtley, you here?” 

To be sure,” cried Tom Girtley ; I’ve come to wish you 
success. Linny and I are going to throw old shoes after you. 
Mind ! a champagne supper if you succeed. Tony and I ‘will find 
the champagne. Hallo ! hero’s Papa Howie.” 

There was no mistaking that step, without the sound of the old 
man taking snuff, and he entered directly after ; got up in grand 
style, and with a flower in his button-hole. 

He had a bunch of flowers, too, for Mrs. Hallett, and a kiss for 
Linny ; and then, shaking hands all round, he began to rub his 
hands. 

“ It’s a winner, Hallett — a winner ! ” he exclaimed. Coma 
along, Girtley, you’ll make one. We want some big boys to cry 
‘Hooray I’” 

“ I’ll come, then,” said Tom merrily ; and directly after we went 
off, trying to look delighted, but all feeling exceedingly nervous 
and strange. 

Hallett and Girtley went on in front, and Mr. Jabez took mj 
arm, holding me a little back. 

“ I’m glad Girtley’s coming, Grace,” he said ; “ he’s a big 
strong fellow, and we may want him.” 

“ Why ? ” I said excitedly. 

“ I don’t know for certain, my boy, but I’m afraid there’s mis- 
chief brewing. I can’t swear to it, but I believe that devil, John 
Lister, has been stirring up the scoundreldom of the trade, with 
stuff about the machine taking the bread out of their mouths, 
and if the trial passes off without a hitch, I shall be sur- 
prised.” 

“Mr. Ruddle hinted something of the kind, last nmht,” I said. 

“ Yes, but don’t let Hallett know, poor fellow ! H^s weak and 
ill enough abeady. He might break down. Ruddle had men 
watching the place all last night, so as to guard against any 
malicious attempts.” 

“ But do you think they would dare to injure the machine ? ” 
I exclaimed. 

“ Fools will do anything if they are set to do it,” said the old 
man, sententiously. 

“ If Lister is at the bottom of any such attempts he deserves 
to be shot,” I cried indignantly. 

“ And his carcase given to the crows,” said the old man. “ But 
I say, Antony Grace, my boy, is Miss Carr likely to come to see 
the trial P ” 

“ No,” I replied ; “she asked me to let her know the time, but 
she said she could not come.” 

“ Humph I I should have liked her to see it,” he said. “ But 


THE DAY OF TMUIVIPH. 


279 


coma along ; d 3n’t let’s lag behind ; and mind this, my ideas may 
only be suspicions, and worth nothing at all.” 

There was a group or two of men hanging about the rival office, 
bearing Lister’s name, at the end of the street, as we •went up to 
the great building, and as I passed the timekeeper’s box I could 
not help thinking of the day when, a shivering, nervous boy, I had 
gone up only to meet with a rebuff ; wffiile now one of the first 
persons to come bustling up, looking very much older, but as pug- 
nacious and important as ever, was Mr. Grimstone, who was quite 
obsequious as he shook hands first with me, and then wdth Hallett, 

'^Very, very proud, gentlemen,” he exclaimed, “very proud 
indeed. Great changes since you used to honour us with your 
assistance.” 

“ Yes, Mr. Grimstone,”! said, laughing as I wondered how I 
could ever have trembled before him, “and time hasn’t stood 
still.” 

“ No, indeed, but we wear well, Mr. Jabez Rowle and I, sir. 
Ha-ha-ha 1 Yes, old standards, sir, both of us, and we stand by 
the old establishment. We don’t want to go away inventing great 
machines.” 

“ Oh, Grimstone ! the men are still there with the machine ? ” 
said Mr. Ruddle, coming up. 

“No, sir, not now. They went off when I came, but I've put 
the new watchman on.” 

“Confound it all, Grimstone 1 You’ve never put a stranger 
there ? ” exclaimed Mr. Ruddle furiously. 

“ But I have, sir,” said the overseer importantly. “ Here he 

is, sir. Bramah lock,” and he held out a bright new key. 

“Oh, I see,” said Mr. Ruddle, laughing. “ Here’s Mr. Girtley, 
senior.” ^ 

The great engineer came up, nodded to his son and me, shook 
hands with Hallett, and then we all went to the room where the 
machine had been set up, glistening, bright, and new, with the 
shaft and bands of the regular engine gear passing through above 

it. 

The first thing noticed was that the window was open; and 
annoyed that the mist of a damp morning should be admitted, 
I hurriedly closed it, thinking then no more of the matter. 

It wanted quite an hour to the time appointed, and the in- 
terval was employed in s iperintending the alteration of a few 
bolts and nuts, which Mr. Girtley wanted tightened, and as I 
watched the great engineer, a man whose name was now an 
authority throughout Europe, and who was constantly refusing 
contracts, pull off his coat, take a spanner, and help his men, I 
began to realize that it was his personal attention to small matters 
and his watchful supervision that had raised him to his present 
position. 


280 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


** Nice hands I ” he said, laughing, as he held them out all over 
blacklead and oil. “ Wise lad, you were, Tom, to leave it, and 
take to your parchment and pounce.” 

There was a covert sneer in his words, which Tom seemed to 
take, for he said quickly ; 

Perhaps, father, I may help you as much with my brain as I 
used to help you with my hands.” 

** Yes, yes, of course, my boy, and we must have lawyers. 
Well, Grace, how do you feel about it now ? ” 

I think I’d ease that nut a little, sir,” I said, pointing to one 
part of the machine. 

Why ? ” he said sharply. 

I fancy that there will be so much stress upon that wheel 
that it will be better to give it as much freedom as we can, and, 

perhaps I am wrong, sir, but it strikes me ” I glanced at 

Hallett, and felt the blood flush to my face, for I felt that what 
I was about to say must sound very cruel to him. 

“ Go on, Antony,” he said kindly ; but I saw that he was very 
pale. 

** It strikes you ? ” said Mr. Girtley. 

“That this is the weak part of the contrivance. Here falls the 
stress ; and, when it is running at full speed, I feel sure that the 
slight structure of this portion wijl tell against the machine doing 
good work, and it may result in its breaking down.’^ 

“ Go on,” said Mr. Girtley bluntly ; for I had stopped, feeling 
uncomfortable at the dead silence that had fallen upon the group. 

“ It is not a question of efficiency,” I said, “ but one of detail, 
— of substantiality and durability. At first sight it seems as if 
it would make the machine cumbersome, but I feel sure that if 
we made that shaft and its wheel four times the thickness — that 
is to say, excessively massive, we should get a firm, solid regu- 
larity in the working, a fourth of the vibration, and be able to 
dispense with this awkward fly-wheel. My dear Hallett,” I 
exclaimed hurriedly, as I saw how his pallor had increased, “pray 
forgive me. I was quite led away by my thoughts. These are 
but suggestions. I daresay I was wrong.” 

“Wrong!” exclaimed Mr. Girtley, catching my hand in his, 
and giving it a grip that made me wince. “ Every word you have 
said, my boy, is worth gold. Tom, I’d have given ten thousand 
pounds to have heard you speak like that.” 

“But then, you see, I could not, father,” said his son good- 
humouredly. ** Antony Grace here is a born engineer, and you’ll 
have to make him a partner one of these days.” 

I hardly heard their words, for my anxiety about Hallett. I 
seemed to have been trampling upon his hopes, and as if I had 
been wanting in forethought after having the superintendence of 
the manufacture for so long. 


THE DAY OF TRIUMPH. 


281 


** I ought to have suggested these alterations before,” I faltered. 

**How could you?” said Mr. Girtley gruffly. ‘‘ You only saw 
the failing just now. I can see it, of course, when you point it 
out. We only climb by our falls, Grace. Locomotives were 
only got to their present perfection after no end of failures. Well, 
Mr. Hallett, what do you say P ” 

Antony Grace is quite right,” he replied. ^^That is un- 
doubtedly a failing spot, and where, if driven at high speed, the 
machine would break down. I have had no training as an 
engineer, and have had to work blindfold, and in the midst of 
difficulties.” 

** Mr. Hallett,” said the great engineer, have had training as 
an engineer — a long and arduous training — and I tell you that if 
you had had twice as much experii ’’ ’I not have 



succeeded with your contrivance 


I threw 


myself into this affair as soon as I saw it, for I felt that it was 
one of those machines that make their mark in history ; and now 
that we are going to try it, even if it does not come up to our 
expectations, I say, don’t be discouraged, for I tell you it must 
and will succeed. I’m not a proud man, as a rule, but I am 
proud of my reputation, and if money is wanted to bring your 
^reat invention to perfection, the cash shall be forthcoming, even 
if we have to borrow.” 

“ Hear, hear ! ” cried Mr. Jabez, and a slight flush appeared in 
Hallett’s pale face. 

“ I’m very sorry I spoke, Hallett,” I whispered to him, as I took 
bis hand. 

“ What, for giving me such great help ? ” he said, smiling. 

You foolish fellow, Antony, I am not a spoilt child, that I can- 
not bear to listen to my mistakes.” 

Our conversation was broken off here ; for just then a couple of 
gentlemen arrived, and these were followed by others, till the 
room w^as quite full. For invitations had been sent out to some 
of the principal printers and newspaper proprietors to come and 
see the testing of the new machine. 

Hallett, as the patentee, had to throw off his reserve, and come, 
as it were, out of his shell to answer questions, and point out the 
various peculiarities and advantages of his machine, all of which 
I noticed were received with a good deal of reserve ; and there 
was a shrug of the shoulders here, a raising of the eyebrows there, 
while one coarse-minded fellow said brutally : 

“Plaything, gentlemen, plaything. Such a machine cannot 


answer. The whole principle is wrong, and it must break 



I was so annoyed at this bitter judgment, delivered by one who 
had not even a superficial knowledge of its properties, that I said 
quickly, and foolishly, I grant ; 


282 


THE STORY OF ANTONY G-RACE, 


That is what brainless people said of the steam-eng-ine.” 

** 0 ! '’ he said sharply, “ is it, boy ? AVell, you must know : 
you are so old and wise. Well, come, gentlemen, I have no time 
to waste. When is your playihing to be set going, iMr. Huddle ? ” 

“ Now,’’ said llallett quietly, as he silenced me with a look, just 
as, like the foolish enthusiastic boy I was, some hot passionate 
retort was about to escape my lips. 

Mr. Girtley nodded, and be gave a glance round the machine. 
Then he looked up at the shaft that was revolving above our heads, 
and took hold of the great leather band that was to connect it with 
our machine, and I noticed that everyone but Hallett and myself 
drew back. 

I was so angry and excited that if I had known that the whole 
machine was about to fly to pieces, I don’t think I should have 
stirred. Then, biting my lips, as I heard a derisive laugh from 
the Solon who had annoyed me, I saw Mr. Girtley give the band 
that peculiar twitch born of long custom, when an undulation ran 
up the stout leather, it fitted itself, as it were, over both wheels ; 
there was a rapid whirring noise, and the next instant the great 
heavy mass of machinery seemed as it were to breathe as it throbbed 
and panted, and its great cylinders revolved. 

There was the glistening of the polished iron and brass, the 
twinkling of the well-oiled portions, the huge roll of paper began 
to turn, and I saw its virgin whiteness stamped directly after with 
thousands of lines of language. My doubts of success died away, 
and a hearty cheer broke forth from the assembled party; and 
then, as I felt a fervent wish that Miss Carr had been present to 
see our triumph, there was a horrible grinding, sickening crash ; 
broken wheels flew here and there ; bar and crank were bent in 
horrible distortion ; there was an instantaneous stoppage of every- 
thing but the great fly-wheel, which, as if in derision, went spin- 
ning on, and there lay poor Hallett stunned and bleeding upon the 
floor. 

Foul play — foul play I ” roared Mr. Girtley, in a voice of 
thunder, in ttie midst of the ominous silence. I was too late to 
stop the machine. Some scoundrel had placed a great pin under- 
neath, and I saw it fall. Here, look ! Here ! ” he roared, as he 
stamped with rage ; and he pointed to a round bent bar of iron, 
such as is used to screw down a paper press. There it is. It 
was placed on that ledge, so that it might fall with the jar. Mr. 
Huddle, this is some of your men’s work, and, blast them I they 
deserve to be hanged,” 


JOHN LISTER’S TRIUMPH. 


283 


CHAPTER LVI. 

JOHN LISTEH’s triumph. 

As Mr. Girt ley roared those words a sudden thought flashed 
through my mind, and I ran to the window, threw it open, 
and, as I did so, there beneath me, reaching down to the low 
roof of a building below, was a ladder, showing plainly enough 
the road by which the enemy had crept in. 

From where I stood I looked out upon the backs of a score of 
buildings ; printing-offices, warehouses, and the like, and at the 
w'indow of one of these buildings I saw a couple of men, one of 
whom I felt certain was some one I had seen before, but where, I 
could not tell. 

I was back and beside poor Hallett directly, giving both Mr. 
Girtley and Tom a look which sent them to the window, to see 
that there was no doubt how the misfortune had occurred ; but I 
was too much taken up with Hallett’s condition to say more then. 

Is he much hurt ? ” cried first one and then another. 

“ Looks like a judgment on him,” said the heavy, broad-faced 
man with whom I had had my short verbal encounter. 

Why ? ” said Tom Girtley sharply. 

** Inventing giracrack things like that,” said the fellow in a tone 
of contempt, “ to try and take the bread out of honest men’s 
mouths.” 

Good heavens ! man, leave the room ! ” cried Mr. Girtley in a 
rage. Go and take off your clothes ; they've been made by 
machinery ! Go and grub up roots with your dirty fingers ! don’t 
dig them with a spade — it’s a machine ! Go and exist, and grovel 
like a toad or a slug, or any other noisome creature j you are not 
fit for the society of men ! ” 

The brute was about to reply, but there was such a shout of 
laughter at Mr. Girtley’s denunciation and its truthfulness, that 
he hurried out of the place, just as Hallett sat up and stared 
round. 

‘^No,” he said, ^^not much hurt; I’m better now. A piece of 
iron struck me on the head. It is a mere nothing. Stunned me, 
I suppose.” 

He rose as he spoke, and there was a silence no one cared to 
break, as he looked at the wreck of his machine. 

Another failure, Mr. Rowle,” he said sadly ; and he took the 
old man’s hand, as if he were the one who needed all the sympathy. 
* I am very, very sorry — for your sake. I cannot say more now.” 

One word, Mr. Hallett,” said the great engineer. ‘^Do you 
know that th^s is all through malice P ” 


284 


THE STOBY OF ANTONY GBACE. 


"MJiceP No.” 

Some scoundrel has been here and thrust in this bar of iron. 
Gentlemen,” he said, looking round, ^^this is an unfortunate 
afEair ; hut I speak to you as leading members of the printing 
business, and I tell you that Mr. Hallett’s invention here means 
success, and a revolution in the trade. This is a case of wanton 
destruction, the act of some contemptible scoundrel. You have 
seen the ruin here of something built up by immense labour, but 
I pledge you my word — my reputation — that before six months 
are past another and a better machine shall be running before you 
^perfect.” 

There was a faint cheer, and quite a little crowd gathered round 
the wreck while Mr. Girtley turned to speak to Hallett. 

Thank you,” said the latter, smiling ; you will excuse me 
now; I feel rather faint and giddy, and I will get oS home.” 

" I’ll go with you, Hallett,’’ I cried. 

No, no : I shall be all right,” he said, with a sad smile. “ I’ll 
take a cab at the corner on the strength of my success. Come to 
me after you leave.” 

I would rather go with you,” I said. 

“No, no, I want you to represent me here,” he whispered. 

Stay, Antony ; it will seem less as if I deserted the ruin like a 
rat, and I am not man enough to command myself mow.” 

“But you are not fit to go alone,” I said earnestly. 

“Yes, I am,” he replied; “the sick feeling has gone off. It 
was nothing to mind. I am not much hurt.” 

I should have pressed him, but he was so much in earnest that 
I drew back, and after a formal leave-taking he left the room, and 
descended the stairs, while a burst of angry remarks followed his 
departure. 

“Buddie,”. said one grey-haired old gentleman, “I think, for 
your credit’s sake, you ought to have in a detective to try and 
trace out the offender.” 

“ I mean to,” said Mr. Ruddle firmly, and he glanced at Grim- 
stone, who seemed to shrink away, and looked thin and old. 

“ For my part,” said another, “ I believe fully in the invention 

and I congratulate the man of genius who halloa I what’s 

wrong ? ” 

A burst of yells and hooting arose from the street below, and 
with one consent we hurried to the windows, to see poor Hallett 
standing at bay in a corner, hemmed in by about a hundred men 
and boys, evidently the off-scourings of the district, who, amidst 
a storm of cries of “ Who robbed the poor man of his bread ? ” — 
“ Who tries to stifle work ? ” and a babel of similar utterances, 
were pelting the poor fellow with filth, wavSte-paper full of print- 
ing-ink, mud, and ’ndescribable refuse, evidently prepared for the 
occasion. 


JOHN LISTER’S TRIUMPH. 


285 


Heading tRe party, and the most demonstrative of all, was a fat 
ruffian, in inky apron and shirt-sleeves, whom I recognised as what 
should have been the manhood of my old enemy, Jem Smith, 
while in the same glance I saw, standing aloof upon a door-step, a 
spectator of the degrading scene, no less a person than John Lister, 
fashionably dressed, and in strange contrast to the pallid, mud- 
bespattered man who stood there panting and too weak to repel 
assault. 

What I have said here was seen in a moment, as I cried out, 
** Tom Girtley, quick ! ” rushed to the door, and down the stairs. 

It took me very little time to reach the street, but it was long 
enough to bring my blood to fever-heat, as, closely followed by 
Tom, I rushed past John Lister, and fought my way through the 
yelling mob of ruffianly men and boys. 

Before I could reach Hallett, though, I caught sight of a car- 
riage farther up the street, and just then the noise and yelling 
ceased as if by magic, while my efforts to reach Hallett’s side be- 
came less arduous. 

I, too, stopped short as I reached the inner edge of the ring 
which surrounded my friend, for there, richly dressed, and in 
strange opposition to the scene, was Miriam Carr, her veil thrown 
back, her handsome face white, and her large eyes flashing as she 
threw herself before Hallett. 

Cowards I wretches I ” I heard her cry ; and then, ** Oh, help I 
helpl'' 

For as, regardless of his state, she caught at Hallett, he reeled 
and seemed about to fall I 

Then I was at his side. 

Don’t touch me!” he gasped, recovering himself and recoiling 
from the vision that seemed to have come between him and 
his persecutors. ‘‘ Miss Carr, for heaven’s sake ! — away from 
here!” 

For answer she caught his hand in hers, and drew his befouled 
arm through her own. 

‘‘Come,” she said, as her eyes flashed with anger; “lean on me. 
They will not dare to treat a woman ill.” 

“ Antony,” cried Hallett hoarsely. “ Miss Carr — take her 
away ! ” 

“ Lean on me,” she cried proudly. Antony, beat a way for us 
through these curs.” 

I took Hallett’s other arm, and as we stepped forward, Jem 
Smith uttered a loud “ Yah ! ” but it seemed as if it was broken 
before it left his lips, and he went staggering back from a tremen- 
dous blow right in the teeth, delivered by Tom Girtley. 

Then there was an interlude, for some one else forced his way 
to the front. 

“Miss Carr I great heavens! what is all this?” he cried “ Give 


286 


THE STORY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


me your hand. This is no place for you. What does this outrage 
mean ? Quick ! let me help you. This is horrible.’’ 

“ Stand back, sir ! ” 

^‘You are excited,” he cried. “You don’t know me. I see 
now ; there is your carriage. Stand away, you ruffians. How 
thankful I am that I was near I Take this man aw’ay. Is he 
drunk ? ” 

As he spoke, John Lister, with a look of supreme disgust, 
pushed poor fainting Hallett back, and tried to draw Miss Carr 
out of the crowd. 

“ Coward I Villain I This is your work ! ’’ she cried in a low, 
strange voice; and as he tried to draw her away, she sharply 
thrust him from her. 

The crowd uttered a cry of excitement as they witnessed the 
act ; andj stung almost to madness with rage and mortification, 
Lister turned upon me. 

But I again found a good man at my back, for, boiling with 
rage, Tom Girtley struck at him fiercely and kept him off, while 
in the midst of the noise, pushing, and hustling of the crowd, a 
confusion that seemed to me now as unreal as some dream, we got 
Hallett along towards the carriage, he, poor fellow, seeming ready 
to sink at every step, while the true-hearted v/omau at his side 
clung to him and passed one arm round him to help him. 

The coachman now saw that his mistress seemed to be in need 
of help, and he shortened the distance by forcing his horses on- 
ward through the gathering crowd. 

But the danger was past, for those who now thronged out from 
the buildings on either side were workpeople attracted by the 
noise, and they rapidly outnumbered John Lister’s gang of 
scoundrels, got together by his lieutenant, Jem Smith, for the 
mortification of the man he hated, while his triumph had been 
that the woman they loved had come to his rival’s help, glorified 
him, as it were, by her presence, and rained down scorn and con- 
tempt upon his own wretched head. 

As I said before, it seems now like some terrible dream, in which 
I found myself in Miss Carr’s carnage, with her sister looking 
ghastly with fear beside me, and HaUett in the back seat, nearly 
unconscious, beside Miss Carr. 

“ Tell the coachman to stop at the nearest doctor’s, Antony,” 
she said ; and I lo-wered the glass and told Tom Girtley, who had 
mounted to the driver’s side. 

“ No, no,” said Hallett, faintly, for her words seemed to bring 
him to. “ For pity’s sake. To my own home. Why have you 
done this ? ” 

Sne did not speak, but I saw her take his hand, and her eyes 
fix themselves, as it were, upon his, while a great sob laboured from 
her breast. 


I FIND I HAVE A TEMPER. 


287 


** Mr. Grace,” faltered Miss Carr’s sister, “ this is very dreadful ; ” 
and I saw her frightened eyes wander from the mud-besmeared 
object opposite her to her sister’s injured attire, and the sullied 
linings of the carriage. 

Antony,” said Miss Carr then, do what is for the best.” 

For answer, I lowered the window again and uttered to Tom 
Girtley the one word, Home.” 

Fortunately, Revitts was on night duty, and ready to come as 
the carriage stopped at the door, where we had to lift the poor 
fellow out, and carry him to his bed, perfectly insensible now from 
the effects of the blow. 

I was rather surprised to find the carriage gone when I de- 
scended, but my suspense was of short duration, for it soon came 
back with a neighbouring doctor, whom Miss Carr had fetched. 

Mary was at hand to. show him up, while I ran down to the 
carriage-door, where Miss Carr grasped my hand for a moment, 
her face now looking flushed and strange. 

Come to me to-night, Antony,” she said in a low voice — 
‘'come and tell me ail.” 

She sank back in the carriage then, as if to hide herself from 
view, while in obedience to her mute signal, I bade the coachman 
drive her and her sister home. 


CHAPTER LVn. 

X FIND I HAVE A TEMPEB. 

[ WENT to Miss Carr’s nearly every evening now, to report progress; 
for her instructions to me, after a consultation between Mr. Jabez, 
Mr. Ruddle, Mr. Girtley, and myself, were that neither expense 
nor time was to be spared in perfecting the machine. 

We had gone carefully into the reasons for the breakdown, and 
were compelled reluctantly to own that sooner or later the 
mechanism would have failed ; for besides the part I named, we 
found several weak points in the construction — faults that only a 
superhuman intelligence could have guarded against. The maiig- 
nant act had only hastened the catastrophe. 

It was a cruel trick, and though we could not bring it home, we 
had not a doubt that the dastardly act was committed by Jem 
Smith, who was the instrument of John Lister. A little examina- 
tion showed how easily the back premises could be entered by any- 
one coming along behind from Lister’s, and there was some talk 
of prosecution, but Hallett was ill,' and it was abandoned. 

For the blow he had received from a piece of the machinery 
bad produced serious injury So the head, and day after day I had 


288 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


very bad news to convey to Miss Carr. The poor fellow seemed 
to have broken down utterly, and kept his bed. He used to try 
to appear cheerful ; but it was evident that he took the matter 
bitterly to heart, and at times gave up all hope of ever perfecting 
the machine. 

It was pitiful to see his remorseful looks when Mr. Jabez came 
to see him of an evening; Mr. Peter, who always accompanied 
his brother, stopping in my room to smoke a lonig pipe I kept on 
purpose for him, whether I was at home or no, and from time to 
time he had consultations with Tom Girtley, who kept putting off 
a communication that he said he had to make till he had his task 
done. 

I used to notice that he and Mr. Peter had a great deal to say 
to each other, but I was too much taken up with my troubles 
about Hallett and the machine to pay much heed ; for sometimes 
the idea forced itself upon me that my poor friend would never 
live to realize his hopes. 

Time glided on, and I used to sit with him in an evening, and 
tell him how we had progressed .during the day ; but it made no 
impression whatever ; he used only to lie and dream, never refer- 
riijg once to Miss Carr’s behaviour on that wretched day ; in fact, 
I used to fancy sometimes that he was in such a state from his 
injury that he had nor thoroughly realized what did occur. 

It was indeed a dreary time ; for poor Mrs. Hallett, when, led 
by a sense of duty, I used to go and sit with her, always had a 
reproachful look for me, and, no matter what I said, she always 
seemed to make the worst of matters. 

But for Linny and Tom Girtley, the place would have been 
gloomy indeed, but the latter was always bright and cheerful, and 
Linny entirely changed. There was no open love-making, but a 
quiet feeling of respect seemed to have sprung up between them, 
and I hardly knew what was going on, only when it was brought 
to my attention by Mr. Jabez, or Eevitts, or Mary. 

I should have thought as you wouldn’t have liked that there 
Mend of yourn cutting you out in the way he do, Ant’ny,” said 
©svitts, one day ; “ I don’t want to make mischief, but this here 
is my — our — house,” he added by way of correction, “ and I don’t 
think as a young man as is a friend of youm ought to come down 
my stairs with his arm round a certain young lady’s waist.” 

“Go along, do, with your stuff and nonsense, 'William,” ex- 
claimed Mary sharply. “ What do you know about such things?” 

“ Lots,” said Bill, grinning with delight, and then becoming 
preternaturally serious ; “ I felt it to be my dooty to tell Ant’ny, 
and I have.” 

“ You don’t know nothing about it,” said Mary, tittering j “ be 
don’t know what we know, do he. Master Antony ? ” 

" I don’t know what you mean, Mary,” I replied. 


I FIND I HAVE A TEMPEK. 


289 


" Oh no, of course not, Master Antony ; but I shouldn’t like a 
certain young lady down at Kowford to hear you say so.” 

** Phew ! ” whistled Eevitts, and feeling very boyish and con- 
scious, I made my retreat, for I was bound for Westmouth Street, 
and had stopped to have ten minutes’ chat downstairs with my 
old friends on the way. 

I found Miss Carr looking very thin and anxious, and she 
listened eagerly to my account of howlwas progressing at the works. 

Mr. Girtley tells me that you are doing wonders, Antony,” 
she said, in a curious, hesitating way, for we both seemed to be 
fencing, and as if we disliked to talk of the subject nearest to our 
hearts. 

She was the first to cast off the foolish reserve though, and to 
ask after Hallett’s health. 

The doctors don’t seem to help him a bit,” I said sadly. 
" Poor fellow ! he thinks so much about the failure of his hopes, 
and it is heart-breaking to see him. He toiled for it so long. 
Oh, Miss Carr, if I only knew for certain that it was John Lister 
who caused the breakdown, I should almost feel as if I could kill 
him.” 

“ Kill him with your contempt, Antony,” she said sternly ; and 
then, as we went on talking about Hallett’s illness, she became very 
much agitated, and I saw that she was in tears, which she hastily 
repressed as her sister entered the room. 

The next evening when I went, I found her alone, for her sister 
had gone to stay a few days with some friends. My news was 
worse than ever, and there was no fencing the question that night, 
as she turned very pale when I gave my report. 

But the invention, Antony,” she exclaimed excitedly ; tell 
me how it is going on.” 

We are working at it as fast as possible,” I replied ; it takes 
a long time, but that is unavoidable.” 

If you love Stephen Hallett,” she said suddenly, and she 
looked full in my face, get his invention finished and perfect. 
Let it succeed, and you will have done more for him than any 

doctor. Work, Antony, work. I ask you for — for Pray, 

pray strive on.” 

I will — I am striving,” I said, with all my might. It was 
a cruel blow for him though, just as success was in his grasp.” 

JMr. Lister is here, ma’am,” said the servant, entering the 
room. 

“ I have forbidden Mr. Lister my house,” said Miss Carr sternly. 

Yes, ma’am, but he forced his way in, and ” 

Before the man could finish his sentence, John Lister was in 
the room, looking flushed and excited, and he almost thrust the 
servant out and closed the door. 

As he caught sight of me his face turned white with rage, but 

19 


290 


THE STOEY OE ANTONY GRACE, 


he controlled himself, and turned to where Miss Carr was stand* 
ing, looking very beautiful in her anger. 

I had started up, and stepped between them, but she motioned 
me back to my seat, while he joined his hands in a piteous way, 
and said in a low voice : 

‘‘1 could not help it. I was obliged to come. Pray, pray, 
Miriam, hear me now.” 

Mr. Lister ! ” she said, with a look of contempt that should 
have driven him away — “ Mr. Lister ! and once more here ? ” 

“ Miriam,” he exclaimed, you drive me to distraction. D() 
you think that such a love as mine is to be crushed ” 

** Love ! ” she said, looking at him contemptuously. 

Yes ; love,” he cried. “ I’ll prove to you my love by saying 
that now — even now, knowing what I do, I will forgive the past, 
and will try to save you from disgrace.” 

IMr. Lister, you force me to listen to you,” she replied, for 
I will not degrade you by ringing for the servants and having you 
removed. Pray say what you mean. Hush, Antony, let him 
speak. Perhaps after he has said all he wishes, he may leave me 
in peace.” 

Leave you in peace — you will not degrade me 1 ” he cried, 
slung to madness and despair by her looks and words. “ Look 
here, Miriam Carr, you compel me to speak as I do before this 
wretched boy.” 

Hush, Antony, be silent,” she cried, as I started up, stung in 
my turn by his contemptuous tone. 

Yes : sit down, spaniel, lap-dog — miserable cur ! ” he cried ; 
and I felt my teeth grit together with such a sensation of rage as 
I had never known before. “ And now, as for you — you blind, 
foolish woman,” he continued, as I awakened to the fact that he 
had been drinking heavily, since fair means will not succeed, 
foul means shall.” 

“ Say what you wish to say, Mr. Lister,” she replied coldly, 
^^for I warn you that this is the last time you shall speak to me. 
Tf you force yourself into my presence again, my servants shall 
hand you over to the police.” 

What ! ” he cried, with a forced laugh, “ me ? — hand me 
over to the police ? You — you think I have been drinking, but 
you are wrong.” 

No one had hinted at such a thing, but he felt it, and went on. 

I came to tell you to-night, that I will ignore the past, that I 
will overlook your disgraceful intimacy with this low, contemp- 
tible compositor, the blackguardly friend of this boy — the man 
who has obtained a hold upon you, and who, with his com- 
panions, is draining your purse — I say I will overlook all this, 
and, ignoring the past, take you for my wife, if you will prondse 
to give up this wretched crew.” 


I FIND I HAVF V 


«91 


There ^as »:> answer, hut I sat there feeling as tf I must fling 
myself at trim, young and slight as I was, in hei* defence, hut she 
stood thertr like a statue, fixing him with her eyes, wiinle he went 
on raving. His face wai3 flashed, and there was a hot;, fiery look 
in his eyes, while his lips were white and parched. 

You shall not go on like this,” he continued. You are my 
betrothed wife, and I will not stand hy and see your name 
dragged in the mire hy these wretched adventurers. Even now 
your name has "become a hy-word and a shame, the talk in every 
pot-house where low-class printers meet, and it is to save you from 
this that I would still take you to be my wife.” 

Still she did not speak, and a look from her restrained me, 
when I would have done something to protect her from his insults, 
every one of which seemed to sting me to the heart. 

I know I am to blame,” he said passionately, for letting you 
take and warm that young viper into life ; but I could not 
tell. It shall end, though, now. I have written to your brother- 
in-law, and he will help to drag you from amongst this swindling 
crew.” 

Have you said all you wish to say, Mr. Lister ? ” she replied 
coldly. 

“ No,” he cried, stung into a fresh burst by her words ; no, I 
have not. No, I tell you,” he cried, taking a step forward, as 
if believing in his drunken fit that she was shrinking from him, 
and being conquered by his importunities ; “ No, I tell you — no : 
and I never shall give up till you consent to be my wife. Do you 
take me for a drivelling boy, to be put off like this, Miriam ? ” he 
cried, catching at her hand, but she drew it back. “ Do you wish 
to save your name from disgrace ? ” 

She did not answer, while he approached closer. 

You don’t speak,” he said hoarsely. Do you know what 
they say about you and this fellow Hallett ? ” 

Still she made no reply. 

" They say,” he hissed, and thrusting out his face, he whispered 
something to her, when, in an instant, I saw her countonanco 
change, and her white hand struck him full across the lips. 

Uttering an oath, he caught her tightly by the arms, hat I 
could bear no more. With my whole strength called up I leaped 
at him, and seized him by the throat, believing in my power 
of turning him forcibly from the room. 

The events of the next few moments seem now as if seen 
through a mist, for in the brief struggle that ensued I was easily 
mastered by the powerful man whom I had engaged. 

I have some indistinct memory of our swaying here and there, 
and then of having a heavy fall. My next recollection is ol 
feeling sick and drowsy, and seeing Miss Carr and one of the 
servants bending over me and bathing my face. 


19-2 


292 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


For eorae few minutes I could not understand w'bat it all me(/nt 
but by degrees the feeling of sickness passed away, and I looked 
hastily round the room, 

Miss Carr, who was deadly pale, told the maid to fetch some 
brandy, and as soon as we were alone, she knelt by me, and held 
one of my hands to her lips. 

Are you much hurt, Antony ? ” she said tenderly. I did not 
send for the doctor. That wretched man has made sufficient 
scandal as it is.” 

Hurt ? No — not much,” I said rather faintly. “ Where is 
he ? ” 

Gone,” she said ; and then she uttered a sigh of relief, as I sat 
up and placed one hand to my head, feeling confused, and as if I 
had gone back some years, and that this was not Miss Carr 
but Mary, and that this was Mr. Blakeford’s again. 

The confusion soon passed off, though, and after I had drunk 
the spirit that was brought me, I felt less giddy and strange. 

Miss Carr sat watching me, looking very pale, but I could 
realize now that she was terribly agitated. 

Before an hour had passed I felt ready to talk to. her, and beg 
her to take some steps for her protection. 

“ If I had only been a strong man,” I exclaimed passionately. 
** Oh, Miss Carr, pray, pray do something,” I cried agaiii ; this 
is horrible. I cannot bear to see you insulted by that wretch.” 

I have decided to do something, Antony,” she said in a 
low voice ; and a faint colour came into her pale cheeks. He 
will not be able to force his way to me again.” 

I don’t know,” I said. He is a madman. I am sure he 
had been drinking to-night.” 

** No one but a madman would have behaved as he did, Antony,’ 
she said. But be at rest about me. I have, after a bitter 
struggle with myself, decided what to do.” 

** But you will not go away p ” I said. 

She shook her head. 

“ No ; my path lies here,” she said quietly. ** Antony, I want 
your help to-morrow.” 

Yes : -what shall I do P ” I aslred. 

Will you ask Miss Hallett to come here to me— will you 
bring her P ” 

" Bring Linny Hallett here P ” I exclaimed in surprise. 

Yes : bring her here,” she said softly ; and there was a pecu- 
liar tone in her voice as she spoke. And now about yourself. 
Do you feel well enough to go home P Shall one of the servants 
see you safely back ? ” 

“ Oh no,” I said ; “ I am better now. I shall take a cab. But 
T do not feel comfortable to leave you alone,” 

“You need not fear,” she said quietly, “The house will ba 


I FIND I HAVE A TEMPEK. 


293 


closed as soon as you leave. To-morrow I shall take steps for my 
protection.” 

I left her soon after, thinking about her request, and as far as I 
could make out she intended to keep Linny with her, feeling that 
Lister would not dare to face her again, when the woman he had 
sought to injure had been made her companion. 

Still I did not feel satisfied, and the only consoling thing was to 
be found in Lister’s own words, that he had sent for Miss Carr’s 
relative ; and, in the hope that he might soon arrive, I reached 
home and went up at once to see Ilallett, who looked very ill, but 
smiled sadly, as I sat down by his side. 

Better,” he said ; I think I’m better, but I don’t know, 
Antony : sometimes I feel as if it would be happier if I could be 
altogether at rest.” 

« Oh, Hallett! ” I cried. 

** Yes, you are right,” he said. “ What would become of them ? 

I must get better, Antony, better, but sometimes — sometimes ” 

Don’t speak to him any more,” whispered Mary ; “ he is so 
weak that his poor head wanders.” 

But, Mary, the doctor ; does he say there is any danger ? ” 

No, no, my dear. He is to sleep all he can. There, go down 
now. I’m going to sit up to-night.” 

I went down, leaving Mary to her weary vigil ; for my head 
ached terribly, and I was very giddy. 

Linny was in the sitting-room, and she uttered an exclamation. 
Why, how bad you look, Antony ! ” she cried. 

Do I ? ” I said with a laugh ; “ 1 had a bit of a fall, and it has 
shaken me. But, Linny dear, I have a message for you,” 

For me, Antony ? ” she said, turning white. 

“Yes; Miss Carr bade me ask you to come with me to her 
house to- morrow.” 

“ I go to her house ! ” faltered Linny. 

“ Yes, dear, you will — will you not.? I am sure it is important.” 

“ But I could not leave poor Steve.” 

“ It need not take long,” I said ; “ you will go and see what she 
wants ? ” 

Linny looked at me in silence for a few moments, and there was 
something very dreamy in her face. 

“If you think it right that I should go, Antony,” she said 
at last, “ I will. Shall I speak to Stephen first ? ” 

“ No,” I said. “Hear first what she has to say.” 

She promised, and I went down to my own room, glad to 
lay my aching head upon the pillow ; where I soon fell into a 
troubled sleep, dreaming of my encounter with John Lister, and 
feeling again the heavy blow as we fell, and my head struck 
the broad, flat fender with a sickening crash, that seemed to 
be repeated again and again. 


294 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY OKACK 


CHAPTER LVIII. 

THE CRISIS. 

By my advice, then, Linny said nothing to Hallett about v^here 
she was going, and as I had stayed at home from the works on 
purpose, we started in pretty good time for Westmouth Street, my 
companion’s flushed cheeks making her look extremely bright and 
pretty. She was terribly nervous though, and when we neared 
the door I feared that she would not muster up courage enough 
to enter. 

I feel as if I dare not meet her, Antony,” she faltered. 

What nonsense ! ” I said, smiling. Why, she is gentleness 
and tenderness itself. Come, be a woman.” 

‘^It is not that,” she whispered. “There is so much more be- 
hind. Take me back, Antony. Why does she want to see me ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” I replied ; “but you may be sure that it is for 
some good purpose.” 

“ Do — do you think she will be angry with me — about — about, 
you know whom I mean ? Do you think it is to reproach me ? ” 

“I am sure it is not, Linny. Come, come, make an effort. I 
don’t know, but I feel sure it is to try and help poor Hallett.” 

“ Do you think so ? ” she faltered, “ or is this only to persuade 
me to go on.f’ Oh, Antony, you cannot think how my heart 
beats with dread. I am afraid of this Miss Carr, and feel as if I 
ought to hate her.” 

“ Come along, you foolish girl,” I said ; and, yielding to me, I 
led her up to the door, when we were admitted, and at once ushered 
into the drawing-room. 

I did not at first see Miss Carr, but the door had hardly closed 
before I heard the rustle of her dress, and the next moment Linny 
was folded in her arms, and returning the embrace. 

I stood for a moment listening to Limiy’s passionate sobs, and 
then stole softly away, going down into the dining-room to stand 
gazing out of the window, but seeing nothing of the passers-by, 
only in imagination the scene upstairs, and wondering why Miss 
Carr had sent for Linny. 

I was kept in doubt for quite an hour, and then the servant 
came and asked me to step upstairs, where, to my surprise, I found 
Miss Carr dressed for going out. 

She held out her hand to me as I entered, and pressed mine. 

“Don’t speak to me, Antony,” she whispered, in a broken voice. 
“ I am going home with Innny Hallett.” 

“ You — going home — with ” 

The rest died on my lips as I saw her draw down her veil to 


THE CRISIS. 


295 


hide her convulsed face, and then, without a word, she rang the 
hell, the door was opened for us, and, feeling like one in a dream, 
I walked in silence by their side to the house in Great Ormond 
Street, where, as I placed my latch-key in the door, it was snatched 
open, and Mary, with her face red with weeping, stood there. 

Oh, Miss Linny ! Oh, Master Antony ! ” she sobbed, I’m so 
glad you’ve come. The doctor sent me out of the room, and I’ve 
been waiting for you.” 

“ Is my brother worse ? ” sobbed Linny hysterically. 

Yes, yes, my dear, I’m — I’m afraid so; ” and as she spoke, a 
hand clutched mine, and I heard Miss Carr moan : 

God help me ! Am I too late ” 

Linny was already half up the first flight, when Miss Carr 
whispered to me in agonized tones ; 

ilbke me to him, Antony, quick. This is no time for pride 
and shame.” 

With my heart beating painfully, I led her upstairs, and, as 
we reached the first floor, we met the doctor coming down. 

I felt Miss Carr’s hand pressing mine convulsively, and I spoke, 
my voice sounding hoarse and strange. 

Is he worse, doctor ? ” 

I’m afraid he cannot last many hours longer,” he said. " I 
have done all I can, but I have a patient a few streets off whom I 
must see, and I will return in a short time. He must not be left.” 

Shall I go in and try to prepare him for your coming .? ’’ I 
whispered to Miss Carr, as we stood outside his door. 

“ No, no ! ” she cried. “ Take me to him at once, or I cannot 
bear it. Don’t speak to me, Antony. Don’t let anybody speak to 
me; but you must not leave me for a moment.” 

Linny was at the door, standing with the handle in her hand, 
but she drew back as we approached, and then ran sobbing into 
the next room, where Mrs. Hallett was sitting helpless and alone. 

I obeyed Miss Carr, leading her quickly inside, and closing the 
door, where she stood for a moment with one hand pressing her 
breast ; then she hastily tore off bonnet and veil, gazing at the 
pale face and great dreamy eyes fixed wistfully upon the 
window. 

The noise of our entry, slight as it was, seemed to rouse him, 
for he turned his gaze heavily from the light towards where we 
stood, and I saw that he held in his thin wasted hand a little grey 
kid glove, the glove we had found in Epping Forest that happy 
day when we met the sisters in our walk. 

But that was forgotten in the change I saw come over the poor 
fellow’s face. It seemed to light up ; the dull dreamy eyes 
dilated; a look of dread, of wonder, of joy seemed to come into 
them, and then he seemed to make an effort, and stared wildly 
round the room, but only to gaze at Miss Carr again as slie stood 


296 


THE STOBY OF AN TONY GKACE. 


•with her hands half raised in a beseeching way, till, with a wild 
cry, his head seemed to fall hack and he lay without motion. 

"l heard steps outside, hut I darted to the door, and stopped 
Linny and Mary from entering, hardly knowing what I did, as 
Miss Carr took a step or two forward, and threw herself upon 
her knees hy the hed, clinging to his hands, placing one arm beneath 
the helpless head, and sobbing and moaning passionately. 

I have killed him — I have killed him ! and I came that he 
might live. Stephen, my love, my hero, speak to me — speak to 
me ! God of heaven, spare him to me, or let me die ! ” 

I was one moment about to summon help, the next prepared to 
defend the door against all comers, an "I again the next ready to 
stop my ears and flee from the room. But she had bidden me 
stay, and not leave her, and I felt it a painful duty to be her 
companion at such a time. So there I stayed, tlirowing myself 
in a chair by the door, my liead bent down, seeming to see all, 
to identify every act, but with my face buried in my hands, 
though hearing every impassioned word. 

^^No,” I heard him say softly; “no: such words as those 
would have brought me from the grave. But why — why did you 
come ? ” 

“I could bear it no longer,” she moaned. “I have fought 
against it till my life has been one long agony. I have felt that 
my place was here — at your side — that my words, my prayers 
would make you live ; and yet I have stayed away, letting my 
pride — my fear of the world — dictate, when my heart told me 
that you loved me and were almost dying for my sake.” 

“ Loved you ! ” he whispered faintly : “loved you — Miriam, I 
dare not say how much ! ” 

His voice was the merest whisper, and in my dread I started 
up, and approached them, fearing the worst ; but there was such 
a smile of peace and restfulness upon his lips as Miss Carr bent 
over him, that I dared not interrupt them, the feeling being upon 
me that if he was to die it would be better so. 

There was a long silence then, one which he broke at last. 

“Why did you come ?” he said. 

The words seemed to electrify her, and she raised her head to 
gaze on his face. 

“Why did I come?” she whispered; “because they told me 
you were dying, and I could bear it no longer. I came to tell you 
of my love, of the love I have fougiit against so long, but only to 
make it grow. To tell you, my poor brave hero, that the world 
is nothing to us, and ’ that we must be estranged no more. 
Stephen, I love you with all my soul, and you must live — live to 
call me wife — live to protect me, for I want your help and your 
brave right hand to be my defence. This is unwomanly — shame- 
less, if you will — but do you think I have not known your love 


THE CRISIS. 


297 


for me, and the true brave fight that you have made P Has not 
my heart shared your every hope, and sorrowed with you when 
you have failed ? And, poor weak fool that I have been, have I 
not stood aloof, saying that you should come to me, and yet wor- 
shipped you — reverenced you the more for your honour and your 
pride ? But that is all past now. It is not too late. Live for 
me, Stephen, my own brave martyr, and let the past be one long 
sad dream ; for I love you, I love you, God only knows how well ! 

She hid her burning, agitated face in his breast, and his two 
thin hands tremblingly and slowly rose to clasp her head ; and 
there the white fingers lay motionless in the rich, dark hair. 

There was again a pause, which he was the first to break, and 
his voice was still but a whisper, as he muttered something that 
T did not hear, though I gathered it from her smothered reply. 

“ Oh, no, no : let there be an end to that ! she sobbed. 
** Money ? Fortune ? Why should that keep us apart, when it 
might help you in your gallant fight ? Let me be your help and 
stay. Stephen — Stephen ! ” she wailed piteously, have 1 not 
asked you — I, a woman — to make me your wife F ” 

Yes,” he said softly, and I heard him sigh ; “ but it cannot 
be — it cannot be.” 

What p ” she cried passionately, as she half-started from him, 
but clung to him still ; “ now that I have conquered my wretched, 
miserable pride, will you raise up another barrier between us ? ” 

“ Oh, hush, hush ! ” he whispered ; “ you are opening to mo the 
gates of a worldly heaven, but I dare not enter in.” 

“ Then I have done nothing,” she wailed, as she seemed to 
crouch there now in shame and confusion by his bed. “ Stephen, 
you humble me in the dust; my shameless declaration — my 
appeal — do I not ask you to take me — pray you to make me your 
wife ? Oh, what am I saying ? ” she cried passionately ; “ it is 
too late — too late 1 ” 

*^No,” he panted ; and his words seemed to come each wi h a 
gi’eater effort, “not — too late — your words — have — given — me 
life. Miriam — come — hold me in your arms, and I shall stay. 
A little while ago I felt that all was past, but now, strength seems 
to come — we must wait — I shall conquer yet — give me strength 
to fight — to strive — wait for me, darling — I’ll win you yet, and — 
God of heaven ! hear her prayer — and let me — ah ! ” 

“ Quick, Miss Carr, he has fainted,” I whispered, as his head 
sank back. “ Let me give him this.” 

His face was so ghastly that I thought he had passed away ; but, 
without waiting to pour it out in a glass, I hastily trickled some 
of the strong stimulant medicine he was taking between his lips, 
and as Miss Carr, with agonized face, knelt beside him, holding 
his hand, there was a quiver in his eyelids, and a faint pressure 
of the hand that held his. 


293 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


The signs were slight, hut they told us that he had but fainted, 
and when, at last, he re-opened his eyes, they rested upon Miss 
Carr with such a look of rest and joy, that it was impossible to 
extinguish the hope that he might yet recover. 

He was too weak to speak, for the interview had been so 
powerful a shock to his system, that it was quite possible for the 
change we saw in his face to be but the precursor of one greater, 
so that it was with a sense of relief that I heard the doctor’s step 
once more upon the stairs, and Mary’s knock at the door. 

I offered Miss Carr my hand to take her into the next room, 
and as if waking out of a dream, she hastily rose and smoothed 
back her hair, but only to bend down over the sufferer, and 
whisper a few words, to which he replied with a yearning look 
that seemed to bring a sensation of choking to my throat. 

The doctor passed us on his way in, and I led Miss Carr into 
the front-room, where Linny was sobbing on the couch, and Mrs. 
Hallett was sitting back, very white and thin, in her chair. 

As we entered Linny started up, and in response to Miss Carr’s 
extended hands, threw her arms round her neck, and kissed her 
passionately. 

‘'Dear sister!” I heard Miss Carr murmur; and then she 
turned from Linny, who left her and glanced at me. 

“ Mrs. Hallett,” I said simply, “ this is Miss Carr.” 

I hardly knew what I said, for Miriam was so changed. There 
was a look of tenderness in her eyes, and a sweet smile just 
dawning upon her lip as she advanced towards the invalid’s 
chair, and bent down to kiss her ; but with a passionate look of 
jealousy and dislike, Hallett’s mother shrank from her. 

“ Don’t touch me ! ’’ she cried. “ I knew that you were here, 
but I could not leave my chair to curse you. Murderess, you 
have killed him ! You are the woman who has blasted my poor 
boy’s life ! ” 

A piteous look of horror came into Miss Carr’s face, and she 
sank upon her knees by the great cushioned chair. 

“ Oh, no, no I ” she said piteously. “ Do not accuse me. You 
do not — you cannot know.” 

“ Know I ” cried Mrs. Hallett, whiter than ever with the feeling 
of dislike and passion that animated her ; “ do I not know how 
you have robbed me of my poor dying boy’s love; how you have 
come between us, and filled his head with foolish notions to 
invent — to make money — for you?” 

“ Oh, Mrs. Hallett, for shame ! — for shame ! ” I exclaimed 
indignantly. 

“ Silence, boy 1 ” she cried, looking at me vindictively. “ Do 
you think I do not know all because I sit helpless here ? You, 
too, have helped to encourage him in his madness, when he 
might have been a professional man by now. I know all, little 


THE CEISIS. 


299 


as you think it, even how you, and this woman, too, fought 
against me. That child might have been the wife of a good man 
now, only that he was this wretched creature’s lover.” 

Mother,” cried Linny passionately, “ are you mad ? How 
dare you say such things ! ” 

That’s well,” she cried. “ You turn against me now. My 
boy is dying : you have killed him amongst you, and the same 
grave will hold us both.” 

“ Mrs. Hallett,” said Miss Carr, in her low, sweet voice ; and 
the flush of pride that had come for a few moments into her face 
faded out, leaving nothing but resignation there, as she crouched 
there upon her knees by the invalid’s chair, “you do not know 
me, or you would not speak to me like this. Don’t turn from 
me,” she said, taking one of the poor weak woman’s trembling hands. 

“ Out of my sight, wretch ! ” she cried. “Your handsome face 
fascinated him ; your pride has killed him ! and you have come 
to triumph in your work. 

“No, no, no,” sobbed Miss Carr in a broken voice, “do not 
condemn me unheard ; I have come to tell him how I love him. 
Mother, dear mother,” she cried, “ be pitiful to me, and join 
your prayers to mine that he may live.” 

Poor weak suffering Mrs. Hallett’s face changed; her lips 
quivered, her menacing hands trembled, and with a low moaning 
wail she bent down, clasping Miriam to her breast, sobbing 
aloud as she rocked herself to and fro, while Miriam clung to her, 
caressing the thin worn face, and drawing herself closer and 
closer in a tight embrace. 

How long this lasted I cannot tell, but it was interrupted by 
the entrance of the doctor, who. came in very softly. 

“ He is in a very critical state,” he said in answer to the 
inquiring eyes of all. “ Hush, my good woman, you must try and 
be firm,” he said parenthetically to Mary, who was trying hard 
to smother her sobs in her apron. “ A nurse ought to have no 
feelings — I mean no sympathies. As I said,” he continued, “ our 
patient is in a very critical state, but he has now sunk into a 
very restful sleep. There is an access of strength in the pulse 
that, however, may only be due to excitement, but your visit, 
ma’am,” he continued to Miss Carr, “ seems to have wrought a 
change — mind,” he added hastily, “ I don’t say for the better, 
but there is a decided change. I will come in again in a couple 
of hours or so ; in the meantime, let some one sit by his bed ready to 
give him the stimulant the instant he wakes, but sleep may now 
mean life.” 

The doctor went softly away, and as he closed the door. Miss 
Carr knelt down once more by Mrs. Hallett’s chair, holding up 
her face, and the poor invalid hung back for a moment, and then 
kissed her passionately. 


soo 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


God forgive me ! ” she wailed. I did not indeed know yoUj 
but you have robbed me of my poor boy’s love.” 

No, no,” whispered Miss Carr softly. “ No, no, dear mother, 
we will love you more and more.” 

Miriam Carr’s place was by the sick man’s pillow all that after- 
noon and evening, and right through the weary night. I had 
been to Westmouth Street to say that she might not return, and 
at her wish had brought back from Harley Street one of the most 
eminent men in the profession, who held a consultation with 
Hallett’s doctor. 

The great man endorsed all that had been done, and sent joy 
into every breast as he said that the crisis was past, but that on 
no account was the patient to be roused. 

And all that night he slept, and on and on till about eight 
o’clock the next morning. Miss Carr never once leaving his side, or 
ceasing to watch with sleepless eyes for the slightest change. 

I had gone softly into the room the next morning, jilst as he 
uttered a low sigh and opened his eyes. 

Ah, Antony,” he said in a low whisper, have had such a 

happy, happy dream ! I dreamed that Oh, God, I thank Thee 

— it was true ! ” 

For just then there was a slight movement by his pillow, and 
the next moment his poor weary head was resting upon Miidam’s 
breast. 


CHAPTER LIX. 

MY IISrHERITANCE. 

** Oh, Master Antony, ain’t she a’ angel ! ” exclaimed Mary. 

This was one day during Stephen Hallett’s convalescence, for 
from the hour of Miriam Carr’s visit, he had steadily begun to 
mend. He showed no disposition, however, to take advantage of 
his position, and I was not a spectator of his further interviews 
with Miss Carr. She looked brighter and happier than I had 
seen her look for a long time, and by degrees I learned that with 
his returning strength Hallett had determined upon achieving 
success before he would ask her to be his wife. 

He asked her, so she told me, if he had not her to thank for the 
assistance he had received, and she had confessed to the little de- 
ception, begging him to let her help him in the future ; but this 
he had refused. 

" No,” he said ; “ let me be worthy of you, Miriam. I shall be 
happier if I try,” and she gave way, after exacting a promise from 
him that if he really needed her assistance he would speak. 

Hallett seemed rapidly to regain his strength now, and appeared 


MY INHEKITANCE. 


301 


to be living a new life as he devoted himself heart and soul to the 
perfection of his invention. 

I believe that I honestly worked as hard, but, in spite of all our 
efforts, nine months passed, away, and still the work was not 
complete. 

It was a pleasant time, though, and I could not help noticing 
the change that had come over Miriam Carr. 

Her sister’s husband had given up his appointment, and was 
now in town, residing with his young wife in Westmouth Street, 
where, about once a fortnight, there was a meeting, when Hallett 
would take liinny, and Tom Girtley, Mr. Ruddle, and several of 
our friends would assemble. 

I look back upon ii as a very happy time. The old sordid 
feeling of my wretched- early life seemed to have dropped away, 
now that I was winning my way in the world ; and Hallett had 
told me that I was to share in his success, even as I had shared 
his labours. 

There was no love-making in the ordinary sense of the word, 
but when Miriam Carr and Hallett met, there would be one long 
earnest look, a pressure of the hand ; and then — they waited. It 
was his wish, and she reverenced his noble pride. 

One evening we were very few at Westmouth Street ; only 
Linny, Tom Girtley, Mr. Jabez, Hallett, and myself, when I found 
that there was a surprise for me. 

Tea was over, and I was just about to propose some music, when 
Tom Girtley took a black bag from under one of the settees, and 
opening it, drew out a packet of papers. 

What was going to happen ? I asked myself. Was it a marriage 
settlement, or some deed of gift, or an arrangement by which 
Hallett was to be forced to take what was needful to complete his 
work ? 

Neither. For at the first words uttered by Tom Girtley, I 
realized that it was something to do with the half-forgotten 
papers brought up by Mr. Peter Rowle. 

Miss Carr wished me to enter into the business matters here, 
Grace,” he said ; “ and I should have talked to you more about it, 
only we thought it better to elucidate everything first, and t,o 
make perfectly sure.” 

“ But ” I began. 

‘‘ Wait a moment,” he said, in regular legal form. “ This has 
been a very intricate affair, and I was obliged to tread very 
cautiously, so as not to alarm the enemy. Before I had been at 
work a fortnight, I found that I needed the help of more experi- 
enced brains, so I consulted my principals.”^ 

“ And ran up a long bill ? ” I said, laughing. 

“ Yes, a very long one,” he said, which Miss Carr, your friend 
and patroness, has paid.” 


302 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Ob, Miss Carr ! ” I exclaimed. 

“ Listen, Antony,” she said, looliing at me with a proud and 
loving" look. 

Being sure, then, of our pay,” said Tom Girtley, laughing, “ we 
went to work with the greatest of zeal, making another long bill, 
and for result — after completely disentangling everything — after 
finding out, without his knowing it, that the enemy was well 
worth powder and shot — in short, after making the ground per- 
fectly safe under our feet, I have the pleasure of announcing to 
you, my dear fellow, that not only is there a sum of five hundred 
pounds a year belonging to you in your lawful right ” 

“ Five hundred ! ” I ejaculated. 

But the same amount, with interest and compound interest, 
due to you for the past eight or nine years, and which that 
scoundrel Blakeford will be obliged to refund.” 

Oh ! ” I exclaimed, as I realized my position. 

“ The rascal plundered your poor father of goodness Imows how 
much,, but of that we can get no trace. This five hundred pounds 
a-year, thougli, and the accumulation, is as certainly yours as if 
you had inherited it at once, and no judge in England can gainsay 
it. Let me be the first to ” 

No ! ” exclaimed Miss Carr, rising ; “ let me, Antony, my dear 
boy, be the first to congratulate you, not so much because of the 
amount, as that it will give you a feeling of independence, and 
take away that sense of obligation to pay your father’s debts.” 

She took my hands in hers, and kissed me, and then, feeling 
giddy with surprise, I turned away for a moment, but only to 
falter out something in a disconnected way. 

Peter’s c’ elighted,” cried Mr. Jabez ; and he took a tremendous 
pinch of snuff, I shall be turning out somebody’s long-lost 
child myself before long, only we are twins, and I shall have to 
share it.” 

I am very, very glad, Antony,” said Hallett, shaking hands. 

And now, if you like, Grace,” continued Tom Girtley, “ we 
will set to work to-morrow to make that scoundrel Blakeford dis- 
gorge ; and before a fortnight is passed, if he doesn’t mind, he 
will be cooling his heels in prison, for I have undeniable proofs of 
liis illegal practices. At the very least he will be struck off the 
Rolls. It is utter professional ruin.” 

I did not speak, for the scene seemed to change to that wretched 
office once more, and I saw tlie black, forbidding, threatening 
face gazing down into mine. I heard the harsh, bitter voice re- 
viling my poor dead father, and a shudder ran through me. The 
next moment, though, I was dwelling on the soft sweet face of 
Hetty, and as I recalled the child’s many gentle, loving acts, there 
was a strange choking sensation at my breast, and I walked into 
the little drawing-room to be alone. 


AT LAST. 


303 


Antony, dear,” said a soft, sweet voice, *^you seem quite over- 
come.” 

“ I shall be better directly,” I said. But, dear Miss Carr, 
this must be stopped. You all meant so kindly by me, but if 
proceedings have begun they must not go on.” 

They have commenced, Antony, by my wishes,” she said in a 
low voice, As she took my hand. Antony, my dear boy, you 
have always seemed to me like a younger brother whom it was my 
duty to protect, and I have felt quite a bitter hatred against this 
man for the wrongs he did you.” 

Not wrongs,” I said. It was through him I came to know 
you and Hallett.” 

‘‘ Yes, but he has wronged you cruelly.” 

Miss Carr,” I said — ‘‘ let me call you sister.” 

Always,” she whispered, as she laid her hand upon my shoulder. 

This would be ruin and disgrace to Mr. Blakeford ? ” 

Which he richly deserves,” she said warmly. 

And it would be ruin and disgrace ” 

Yes,” she said, for I had stopped — “ ruin and disgrace ” 

“ To his poor child ? ” 

‘aietty?” 

Yes ; to the tender-hearted little girl whose bright face is the 
only sunny spot in that time of sorrow. I don’t know,” I said 
passionately, I may be wrong. I may see her now, and the 
fancy he driven away, but I feel as if I love little Hetty Blakeford 
with all my heart.” 

There was silence in the little drawing-room, where all was in 
shadow, while in the larger well-lighted room the others talked 
in a low voice, and as I glanced there once, and saw Linny 
Ilallett gazing up in Tom Girtley’s face, I wondered whether 
Hetty Blakeford would ever look as tenderly in mine. 

It was a passing fancy, and I was brought back to the present 
by feeling Miss Carr’s warm lips brush my cheek. 

^^We will wait and see', Antony,” she said gravely. “Miss 
Blakeford’e feelings must be spared.” 


CHAPTER LX. 

AT LAST. 

The work of two years was complete, and I stood by Hallett as 
he watched the trial of the machine where it was set up at our 
great factory ; and though we tried hard to find weak points, we 
were compelled to declare that it was as near perfection as human 
hands could make it. 


304 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


Hallett was very pale and quiet ; he displayed no excitement, 
no joy ; and I felt rather disappointed at his apathy. 

Well/’ said Mr. Jabez, aside to me, “ if I didn’t know that 
the poor fellow was ill, I should have said that he didn’t care 
that ! whether the thing succeeded or not.” 

That ! was the snap of the fingers which followed the taking of 
a pinch of snuff. 

But he was ill. Poor fellow I Ho never seemed to have 
recovered from the shock his system had received during his late 
illness ; and, though he had rallied and seemed strong and well, 
there had been tim,es when he would turn ghastly white, and 
startle me by his looks. 

I mentioned it more than once to Miss Carr, who begged him 
to see a physician ; but he said it was nothing, and with a smile 
he used to tell her that the perfection of the machine and a 
change would completely restore him to health. 

This we both believed ; and I can honestly say that I strove 
with all my might to inspire the workmen with the spirit in which 
I toiled. 

And now the new machine was finished. All that remained 
was to have it removed to Mr. Ruddle’s place for a public inspec- 
tion of its merits. 

There had been something so depressing in the fate of the last 
machine that I strenuously advised that the trial should be made 
where the present one now stood, but Hallett was averse to it. 

“ No, Antony,” he said quietly ; “ I am neither vindictive nor 
spiteful, and doubtless that man feels that he has good cause for 
hating me. Men of his stamp always blame others for their own 
failings. I am, I say, neither vindictive nor spiteful, but, feeling 
as I do, that he was the cause of our last brealcdown, I am 
determined that the scene of our last failure shall also be the 
scene of our triumph.” 

This silenced opposition, and the workpeople were soon at 
work, taking down and resetting up Hallett’s masterpiece at the 
old place. 

For my part, ! was regularly worn out. I had worked very 
hard, and felt as if I was so deeply interested in the success that 
I must make it this time a foregone conclusion. Hallett’s health 
worried me a great deal too, and in addition to this, I was in 
more trouble than I can very well express about my affair with 
Mr. Blakeford. 

My objections to the proceedings had come too late. As Tom 
Girtley said, it was quite within our province to withdraw, and 
leave him in possession of his ill-gotten gains, but the attack 
upon his character as a solicitor was one which he was bound to 
disprove — in other words, he could not afford to let it drop. 

And what vs he doing ? ” I asked. 


AT LAST 


305 


O 

‘^Riding the high horse,” said Tom. Tony, my hoy, I think 
you are wrong.” 

“ If Linny’s father were aliye, and he had injured you, Tom, 
would you seize the first opportunity to ruin him ?” 

“ Am I to answer that question as solicitor to client, or between 
friends ? ” 

“ As you like, only let’s have the truth.” 

Tom Girtley rubbed one of his ears, and a dry comical look 
came into his countenance. 

Well, Tony, old fellow ” he began. 

** Oh, come,’’ I cried, that form of address is not legal, so it is 
between friends.” 

^‘Just as you like,” he said, laughing. ^^Well, Tony, old 
fellow, under the circumstances, I should put the screw on, 
especially if I knew him to be a scoundrel. First and foremost, 1 
should have his consent to our marriage ; secondly, I should 
inspect his money affairs, and if they were in a satisfactory state, 
I should make the sneak disgorge.” 

“ But you would not ruin him, and blast his character, for his 
child’s sake P ” 

“ No, of course not.” 

** Then, suppose the young lady did not care for you ?” 

** Then I should fire at the old man hotter and stronger, so as 
to ease my wounded feelings.” 

“ No, you wouldn’t, Tom,” I said ; ** so don’t humbug.” 

You’re a rum fellow, Tony,” he retorted, and ’pon my word 
it’s precious disappointing. Here’s old Peter Rowle been hoarding 
this up for his ‘ dear boy,’ as the smoky old cockolorum calls you, 
and old Jabez in a high state of delight too. Then Miss Cair 
has spent no end over it, and thought she had secured you your 
rights, and now you kick us all over.” 

“ I can’t help it, Tom,” I said. “ 1 feel as if I should be a 
brute if I went on.” 

I say, Tony,” he said, after a pause, “ how long is it since 
you have seen the young lady ? ” 

“ Nine years.” 

What do you say to a run down to Rowford ? ” 

''Run down?” I said eagerly. "No, I could not. I am too 
busy over the preparations for the trial.” 

" Nonsense, man. You told me only yesterday that you had 
done all your part, and that you meant to take a rest. I should 
like a run in the country.” 

"At Miss Carr’s expense,” I said spitefully, "and charge it in 
her bill of costs as out of pocket.” 

" Oh, that settles it,” he cried, jumping up and stamping about 
the room, roaring with laughter. "You must go for a run. 
Why, my dear boy, your liver’s out of order, or you, Antony 

20 


306 


THE STOHY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


Grace, the amiable, would never have made a speech like that 
Look here, Touy, you have overdone it, and nothing will do you 
good but a week’s walking tour.” 

Nonsense! Impossible! ” I cried. 

^^Then you’ll break down like the governor did once. Ever 
since, he says that a man must oil his wheels aud slacken his 
bands. Now you’ve got to oil your wheels and slacken your 
bands for a week. When shall we start ? ” 

“ I tell you it’s impossible,” I said testily. 

I tell you that, so far from its being impossible, if you don’t 
give in with a good grace — that isn’t meant for a pun — I’ll go and 
frighten Miss Carr, and see the governor, and tell him how bad 
you are.” 

‘‘ Rubbish, Tom,” I cried. Why, you couldn’t go and leave 
Linny Hallett for a week,” I added. 

“ Sneering, too,” he said, with a mock assumption of concern. 

My dear Tony, this is getting serious. You are worse, far worse, 
than I thought for.” 

Don’t talk stuff,” I cried petulantly. 

The result of it all was, that as he was pulling the string in the 
direction that pleased me, I began to yield, and a proposition he 
made carried the day. 

“ Look here, Tony,” he cried, as if in a fit of inspiration. ** A 
walking-tour is the thing I you told me all about your tramp up 
when you ran away from Blakeford’s. Let’s go and tramp it all 
down again, over the very road.” 

His words seemed to strike an electric chord, and I grasped 
eagerly at the plan. The result was, that after arranging with 
Hallett to keep an eye on the preparations, aud after winning from 
him a declaration that he would not think I was forsaking him at a 
critical time, and also after receiving endorsement aud persuasion 
from Miss Carr, I found myself One bright summer morning at 
Paddington, lightly equipped for the start, and together Tom 
Girtley and I strode along by the side of the dirty canal. 

How familiar it all seemed again, as we walked on! There 
was the public-house where I had obtained the pot of beer for 
Jack’s father, when I had to part from them at the end of my 
journey up ; and there, too, directly after, was just such a boy in 
charge of a couple of bony horses, one of which had a shallow tin 
bucket hanging from the collar-bames, as they tugged at a long 
rope which kept splashing the water, and drew on Londonward 
one of the narrow red andj^ellow-painted canal-boats, covered in 
with just such a tarpaulin as that under which Jack aud I had 
slept. 

Resting on the tiller was just such another heavy, red-faced, 
dreamy man, staring straight before him as he sucked at a short 
black pipe, while forming herself into a living kit-cat picture was 


AT LAST. 


307 


the woman who appeared to he his wife, her lower portions beinjr 
down the square hatch that led into the cabin where the fire 
burned, whose smoke escaped through a little funnel. 

I seemed to have dropped back into the boy again, and half 
wondered that I was not tired and footsore, and longingfor a 
ride on one of the bony horses. 

And so it was all through our journey down. 

Every lock seemed familiar, and at more than one lock-house 
there were the same green apples and cakes and glasses of sticky 
sweets, side by side with two or three string-tied bottles of 
ginger-beer. 

Two or three times over I found myself getting low-spirited as 
t dwelt upon my journey up, and thought of what a poor, 
miserable little fellow I was ; but Tom was always in the highest 
of spirits, and they proved at last to be infectious. 

We had pretty well reached the spot at last where I had first 
etruck the river, when we stopped to see a canal-boat pass through 
the lock, the one where I had stared with wonder to see the great 
boat sink down some eight or nine feet to a lower level. 

The boat, which was a very showily painted one, evidently 
quite new, was deeply laden, and in one place a part of a glisten- 
ing black tarpaulin trailed in the water. As the boat’s progress 
was checked, and the lock-keeper came out, the short, thick-set 
man who had been at the tiller shouted something, and a round 
faced girl of about twenty, with a bright-coloured cotton hand- 
kerchief pinned over her shoulders, came up the hatch, and took 
the man’s place, while he slouched forward to alter the tarpauliu 
where it trailed. " o 

He was quite a young man, and I noticed that his hair was fair, 
short, and crisp about his full neck, as he bent down, pipe in 
mouth, while a something in the way in which he shouted to the 
boy in charge of the horses settled my doubts. 

*^Jack!” I shouted. 

He rose up very slowly, took the pipe out of his month, and 
spat in the water ; then, gradually turning himself in my direction, 
he stared hard at me and said : 

Hello ! ” 

Don’t you know me again. Jack ? ” 

He stared hard at me for some moments, took his pipe out of 
his mouth again, spat once more in the water, said surlily, “ No ! ” 
and bent down slowly to his work. 

“ Don’t you remember my going up to London with you nine 
years ago this summer ? ” 

He assumed the perpendicular at once, stared, scowled, took his 
pipe out of his mouth with his left hand, and then, as a great 
smile gradually dawned all over his brown face, he gave one leg 
a smart slap with a great palm, and seemed to shake himself from 


S08 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


his shoulders to his heels, which I found was his way of having 
a hearty laugh. 

** Why, so it is ! ” he cried, in a sort of good-humoured growl. 
** Missus, lash that there tiller and come ashore. Here’s that 
there young chap.” 

To Tom’s great amusement, Jack came ashore at the lock, and 
was followed by his round-faced partner, for whom he showed bis 
affection by giving her a tremendous slap on the shoulder, to 
which she responded by driving her elbow into his side, and 
saying, Adone, Jack. Don’t be a fool ! ” and ending by staring 
at us hard, 

** I didn’t know yer agen,” growled Jack. ** Lor’ ! ain’t you 
growed ! ” 

Why, so have you. Jack,” I exclaimed, shaking hands with 
him ; and then with the lady, for he joined our hands together, 
taking up hers and placing it in mine, as if he were performing a 
marriage ceremony. 

Well, I s’pose I have,” he said in his slow, cumbersome way. 
** This here’s my missus. We was only married larst week. This 
here’s our boat. She was born aboard one on ’em.” 

I’m glad to see you again, J ack,” I said, as the recollection of 
our journey up recurred to me, strengthened by our meeting. 

“ So am I,” he growled. Lor’ I I do wish my old man was 
here, too : he often talked about you.” 

“About me. Jack?” 

“ Ah ! ’member that pot o’ beer you stood for him when you 
was going away — uppards — you know?” 

“Yes; I remember.” 

“So do he. He says it was the sw^eetest drop he ever had in 
his life ; and he never goes by that ’ere house without drinking 
your health.” 

“ Jack often talks about you,” said my missus.” 

“ I should think I do I ” growled Jack. “ I say, missus, what’s 
in the pot P ” 

“ Biled rabbit, inguns, and bit o’ bacon,” was the prompt reply. 

“ Stop an’ have a bit o’ dinner with us, then. I’ve got plenty 
o’ beer.” 

I was about to say no, as I glanced at Tom ; but his eyes were 
full of glee, and he kept nodding his head, so I said yes. 

The result was that the barge was taken through the lock, 
and half-a-mile lower down drawn close in beneath some shady 
trees, where we partook of Jack’s hospitality — his merry-hearted, 
girlish wife, when she was not staring at us, striving hard to 
make the dinner prepared for two enough for four. 

I dare say it was very plebeian taste, but Tom and I declared 
y .1 . ^ ^ 11 . 1,1 (dinner partaken of under 



never knew how good 


AT LAST. 


309 


Dutch cheese and new crusty country loaf, washed down hy beer 
from a stone bottle, were before. 

We parted soon after, Jack and I exchanging- rings; for when 
I gave him a plain gold gipsy ring for his handkerchief, he insisted 
upon my taking the home-made silver one he wore; while his 
wife was made happy with a gaily coloured silk handkerchief which 
I used to wear at night. 

The last I saw of them was Jack standing up waving his red 
cap over his head, and ^^my missus ” the gaily coloured handker- 
chief. After that they passed on down stream, and Tom and I went 
our way. 

I could not have been a very good walker in my early days, for 
my companion and I soon got over the ground between the river 
and Rowford, even though I stopped again and again — to show 
where I had had my fight ; where I had hidden from Blakeford 
when the pony chaise went by ; and, as if it had never been 
moved, there by the road was a heap of stones where I had slept 
and had my bundle stolen. 

It was one bright summer’s evening that we entered Rowford, 
which seemed to have shrunk and its houses to have gro^vu 
dumpy since the days when I used to go out to post letters for 
Mr. Blakeford. 

There’s his house, Tom,” I said; and I felt my pulses accelerate 
their beat, as *1 saw the gates, and the wall over which I had 
climbed, and found myself wondering whether the same dog was 
in there still. 

We were too tired with our long walk to take much notice, and 
made straight for the principal inn, where, after a hearty meal, 
we were glad to go early to bed. 

Tom was sleeping soundly when I woke the next morning, and 
finding it was not yet seven, I dressed and went out for a walk, to 
have a good look round the old place, and truth to tell, to walk by 
Mr. Blakeford’s house, thinking I might perhaps see Hetty. 

We had made no plans. I was to come down to Rowford, and 
the next day but one I was due in London, for our walk had 
taken some time — though a few hours by rail would suffice to 
take us back. 

It was one of those delicious fresh mornings when, body and 
mind at rest, all nature seems beautiful, and one feels it a joy 
only to exist. 

I was going along the main street on the opposite side of the 
way, when I saw a tall slight figure in deep mourning come out 
of Mr. Blakeford’s gateway, and go on towards the end of the 
town. 

I followed with my heart beating strangely. I had not seen 
her face, but I seemed to feel that it was Hetty, and following 
her slowly right out of the town, and along the main road foi 


310 


THE STOKY OF ANTONY GRACE, 


a time till she struck up a side lane, I kept on wondering what 
she would be like, and whether she would know me ; and if she 
did What then ? 

Perhaps after all it was not Hetty. It might be some friend ; 
and as I thought this, a strange pang of disappointment shot 
through me, and I seemed to have some faint dawning realization 
of what Stephen Hallett’s feelings must have been at many a 
bitter time. 

Is this love ? I asked myself as I walked on, drinking in the 
deliciously sweet morning scents, and listening to the songs of the 
birds and the hum of the insects in the bright June sunshine. 

I could not answer the question ; all I knew was that I was in 
an agony to see that face, to be out of my state of misery and 
doubt; but though a dozen times over I was on the point of 
walking on fast and then turning back so as to meet her, I had 
not the courage. 

For quite half-an-hour this went on, she being about a hundred 
yards in advance. We were now in rather a secluded lane, and 1 
was beginning to fear that she intended to cut across the fields, 
and return by the lower road, when, aU at once, she faced round 
and began to retrace her steps. 

I saw her hesitate a moment as she became aware that-she had 
been followed, but she came straight on, and as she drew near my 
doubts were set at rest. It was unmistakably Hetty, but grown 
sweeter looking and more beautiful, and my heart began to throb 
wildly as the distance between us grew short. 

She did not know me — that was evident ; and yet there was a 
look of doubt and hesitation in her face, while after a moment’s 
wonder as to how I should address her, 1 saw her countenance 
change, and troubled no more about etiquette, but, carried away 
by my feelings, I exclaimed : “ Hetty 1 dear Hetty 1 ” and clasped 
her hands in mine. ^ 


CHAPTER LXI. 

IIY MEETING WITH MY ENEMY. 

These things are a mystery. No doubt we two, parting as we 
did, boy and girl, ought to have met formally as strangers, per- 
haps have been re-introduced, and I ought to have made my 
approaches en rhgle, but all I knew then was that the bright, 
affectionate little girl who had been so kind to me had grown 
into a beautiful woman, whom I^felt that I dearly loved ; and as 
for Hetty, as she looked up in my face in a quiet, trusting way, 
she calmly told me that she had always felt that I should come 


MY MEETING WITH MY ENEMY. 


311 


back some day, and that though she hardly recognised me at first, 
she was not a bit surprised. 

Terribly prosaic and unromantic all this, no doubt; but all 
young people are not driven mad by persecution, and do not tie 
their atfections up in knots and tangles which can never perhaps 
be untied. All I know is that I remember thinking that when 
Adam awoke and found Eve b^ his side in Paradise, he could not 
have felt half so happy as I did then ; and that, walking slowly 
back with Hetty’s little hand resting upon my arm, and held in 
its place by one twice as large, I thought Paradise might have 
been a very pleasant kind of place, but that this present-day 
world would do for me. 

We said very little, much as we wanted to say, but walked on, 
treading as it were upon air, till, as if in a moment, we were back 
at the town, when she said with a quiver in her voice : 

I must leave you now. Papa will be waiting for me to pour 
out his coffee. He will not touch it unless I do.” 

You are in mourning for Mrs. Blakeford,” I said, and my 
eves fell upon the little shabby silver brooch I had given her ail 
those years ago. 

‘‘ 1 es, and papa has not been the same since she died. He has 
•very bad health now, and is sadly changed. He is in some great 
trouble, too, but I don’o know what.” 

I did ; and I walked on thoughtfully by her side till we 
reached the gate, where we stopped, and she laid her hand in mine. 

But the next moment my mind was made up, and, drawhig 
her arm through mine, and trying with a look to infuse some of 
my assurance, I walked with her into the house, and into the 
apparently strangely dwarfed sitting-room. 

Who’s that ? ” cried a peevish voice. “ I want my coffee, 
Hetty. It’s very late. Has the post come in? Who’s that, I 
say, who’s that ? ” 

I stared in astonishment at the little withered yellow man with ^ 
grizzly hair and sunken eyes, and asked myself — Is this the Mr.* 
Blakeford who used to make me shudder and shrink with dread ? 

I could not believe it, as I stood there five feet ten in my stock- 
ings, and broad-shouldered, while he, always below the middle 
height, had terribly shrunk away. 

‘‘ Who is it, I say, Hetty p Who have you brought home ? ” 
he cried again in a querulous voice. 

“It is I, Mr. Blakeford,” I said— “Antony Grace; and I have 
come to see if we cannot make friends.” 

He sank back in his chair, his jaw dropped, and his eyes dilated 
with dread ; but as I approached with extended hand, he recovered 
somewhat, and held out his own as he struggled to his feet. 

“How — how do you do?” he faltered; “I’ve been ill — very 
ill. My wife died. Hetty, my dear, quick, Mr. Grace will have 


312 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


breakfagt with us. No, no, don’t ring ; fetch a cup yourself, my 
dear — fetch it yourself.” 

Hetty looked at him wonderingly, but she obeyed ; and as the 
door closed upon her, Blakeford exclaimed, in quick trembling 
tones : 

She doesn’t know — she knows nothing. Don’t tell her. For 
God’s sake don’t tell her. Don’t say you have.” 

“ I have told her nothing, Mr. Blakeford,” I replied. 

“ Don’t tell her, then. Bless her, I could not bear for her to 
know. I won’t fight, Mr. Grace, I won’t fight. I’m a broken 
man. I’ll make restitution, I wUl indeed; but for God’s sake 
don’t tell my child.” 

Then he is not all bad,” I thought, ** for he does love her, and 
would be ashamed if she knew that he had been such a consum- 
mate villain.” 

And as I thought that, I recalled her brave defence of him 
years ago, and then wondered at the change as she entered the 
room. 

I breakfasted with them, the old man — for, though not old in 
years, he was as much broken as one long past seventy — watching 
me eagerly, his hands trembling each time terribly as he raised 
his cup, while Hetty’s every action, her tender solicitude for her 
father’s wants, and the way in which she must have ignored 
every ill word that she had heard to his injury, filled me with 
delight. 

He must have read my every word and look, for I have no 
doubt I was transparent enough, and then he must have read 
those of Hetty, simple, unconscious and sweet, for it did not 
seem to occur to her that any of the ordinary coquetries of the 
sex were needed ; and at last, when I roused myself to the fact 
that Tom Girtley must be waiting breakfast, it was nearly eleven, 
and I rose to go. 

You are not going, Mr. Grace,” said Hetty’s father anxiously. 

Don’t go yet.” 

must, sir,” I said, “ but I will soon be back.” 

** Soon be back ? ” he said nervously. 

** Yes, sir. And that business of ours. That settlement.” 

Yes, yes,” he said, with lips quivering, ** it shall all be done 
But don’t talk about it now, not before Hetty here.” 

I think Hetty, Mr. Blakeford, will help the settlement most 
easily for us both, will you not, dear ? ” I said, and 1 drew her to 
my side. ** There, Mr. Blakeford,” I said, holding out my hand 
once more, ** are we to be good friends ? ” 

He tried to answer me, but no words came, and he sank back 
quivering with nervous trepidation in his chair. 

He was better, though, in a few minutes, and when I left him 
he clung to my hand, his last words being ; 


MY MEETING WITH MY ENEMY. 


S13 


** I will make all right, I will give you no trouble now.” 

Tom Girtley laughed at me wheu I rejoined him and told him 
where I had been. 

“This is a pretty way of doing business!” he exclaimed. 
“You play fast and loose with your solicitor, and end by coming 
down and compromising the case with the defendant. Really, 
Mr. Grace, this is most reprehensible, and I shall wash my hands 
of the whole affair.” 

“Glad of it,” said I, laughing. “ A solicitor should always 
have clean hands.” 

We chatted on merrily as we walked, for we had started to go 
as far as my old home, where, as I pointed out to him the scene 
of many a happy hour, a feeling of sadness more painful than I 
had experienced for years seemed to oppress me, and it was not 
until I had once more left the old home far behind that I was 
able to shake it off. 

When we returned to the hotel it was to find Mr. Blakeford 
waiting for us, and to the utter surprise of both, we were soon 
put in possession of all that was necessary to give me that which 
was my own by right, but which he saw plainly enough that his 
child would share. 

“ I don’t like to turn prophet, Tony,” said my companion, “ but 
I should say that our friend Blakeford is putting his affairs in 
order on account of a full belief that a summons is about to issue 
that he is soon to meet. Well, I congratulate you,” he said, “and 
I don’t wonder now why it was that I did not find we were 
rivals.” 

This was after we had spent one evening at Blakeford’s ; and 
in the morning, after a tender leave-taking, we were on our way 
back to London. 

My presence was needed, for tlie test of the machine would 
take place next day, and I found Hallett had been taken so ill 
that all prospect of his attending the public trial had been swept 
away. 

“ It does not matter,” he said to me quietly, when I was sitting 
with him, propped up in an easy chair, beside Mrs. Hallett. “ It 
is better as it is, Antony, my dear boy. I shall not be there for 
the miserable scamps to pelt when the poor old idol breaks down 
again.” 

“ Breaks down I ” I cried exultingly ; “ I was there last night 
till after twelve^ and there wUl be no tampering this time, for a 
policeman is on the watch, and Mr. Jabez and Mr. Peter were 
going to take turn and turn in the room all night, the one with 
a box full of snuff, and the other with a couple of ounces of 
tobacco, and the longest clay pipe I could get.” 

“ * There’s many a slip ’twixt cup and lip,’ ” he said, looking at 
me with a piteous smile upon his wasted face- “Antony, lad, 


314 


THE STORY OF ANTONY GRACE. 


inventors do not often reap much from the crops they soav, but 
there is the unselfish pleasure of helping others. If I do not 
prosper from ray work others may. God bless you, lad 1 I believe 
I have a trusty friend in you, and one who will be true to my 
poor mother here and Linny.” 

‘‘Why, my dear Hallett,” I exclaimed, “what a doleful tone to 
take on this, the day of success. Come, come, come, you want a 
dose of good news. I’m off now, and the fastest cab shall bring 
me back the moment the verdict is pronounced.” 

“ ‘ There’s many a slip ’twixt cup and lip,’ ” he said again softly ; 
and there was a strange and meaning smile upon his face. 

“ Out upon you, raven ! ” I cried merrily. “ In two hours I’ll 
be here with such news as shall bring the colour back in those 
white cheeks ; and to-morrow you shall come down into the 
country with me. I shall ask for another fortnight, and you 
shall wander with me in the green fields, and we’ll idle and rest, 
for when the work is done there should surely be some play.” 

He smiled and nodded. 

“ Yes,” he said, “ some rest.” 

I hurried away at the last, leaving Linny with him, and a more 
easy cheerful look upon his countenance, and soon after I was 
at Mr. Ruddle’s, to find all ready, our friends collected, and the 
invited people coming fast. 

“ ‘ Festina lente ’ is a good motto, Grace,” said old Mr. Girtley, 
taking me by the button. “ A little more patience, and we should 
have had this right last time, though of course we could not 
guard against the accident. Ah, Tom,” he continued, “how’s 
parchment .P I’d rather have seen you the schemer of this machine, 
in-’ Ihnn the winner of the most tangled legal case.” 

• Rather hard that, Tony, when I have just won you five hundred 
a year and a wife, eh ? ” said Tom, laughing ; and then my 
attention was taken up in a dozen ways. There were the brothers 
Rowle to talk to ; Mr. Grimstone to shake my hand ; Mr. Ruddle 
to chat with about the success of the machine, and about Lister, 
concerning whom he made a significant motion, turning his hand 
into a drinking-vessel, and shaking his head. 

Then there was a hitch. Everything was declared in readiness, 
when it was found that the shaft that ran through the building 
was ceasing to revolve. 

It came like a black cloud over the proceedings, but it was only 
the stoker’s neglect. Half an hour after, the steam was well up 
once more, and, with the room crowded, Mr. Girtley, just as on 
the last occasion, gave the long leathern band a twitch ; shaft was 
connected with shaft; a touch from a long lever tightened the 
driving-wheel and its fellow portion; there was a whirring, 
clanking noise, the spinning of wheels, the revolving of 
cylinders; ink-rollers ran round; the great reel of paper began 


MY MEETING WITH MY ENEMY. 


315 


to give its fair surface to the kiss of the type; the ipeed was. 
iucreased, faster — faster — faster, and those who had shrunk back 
at first, as if expecting an accident, grew excited and drew in, 
while the ponderous machine, working as easily as a watch, 
turned off perfected newspaper sheets at a rate that seemed 
astounding. 

There was no hesitation now ; there were no doubting looks, 
but a hearty cheer arose, one that was taken up again on the 
staircase, and ran from room to room, till the girls, busy folding 
down below, joined their shrill voices merrily in the cry. 

Success, Tony ! ” cried Tom, catching my hand. 

“ And Hallett not here ! ” I cried. 

The next minute I seized one of the printed newspapers that 
came from the machine, doubled it hastily, and dashed downstairs. 

There was a hansom cab waiting, and as 1 gave my breathless 
order, “ Great Ormond Street,” the horse started, and panting 
with excitement, I thought I had never gone so slowly before. 

“ I shall be witluTi three hours, though,” I said to myself, 
as I glanced at my watch. That want of steam spoiled me for 
keeping my word.” 

Faster ! ” I shouted, as I thrust up the trap ; “ another 
half-crown if you are quick ! ” 

The horse sprang forward, and I carefully redoubled my pre- 
cious paper, holding the apron of the cab-door open, my latchkey 
in my hand, and being ready to spring out as the vehicle stopped 
at the door — not quite though, for the doctor’s brougham was in 
the way. 

No need for the latchkey, for the door was open, and, dashing 
along the hall, I sprang up the stairs, flight after flight, from 
landing to landing, and rushed breathlessly into the room, waving 
the paper over my head. 

** Victory, victory ! ” I shouted. “ Hur ” 

The paper dropped from my hands, as my eyes lighted upon 
the group gathered round a mattress laid upon the floor, on which 
was stretched my poor friend, supported by Miriam Carr, upon 
whose arm his head was lying. 

Doctor, Linny, Mary, Revitts, all were there, watching him 
in silence, while the poor stricken mother was bending forward 
like some sculptured figure to represent despair. 

Hallett ! Stephen ! ” I cried, my news.” 

My words seemed to choke me as I fell upon my knees at 
his side ; but I saw that he recognised me, and tried to raise his 
hand, which fell back upon the mattress. 

Then, making a supreme effort, he slightly turned his head 
to gaze upon the face bending over him, till a pair of quivering 
were pressed upon his brow. 

There was a smile upon his countenance, and he spoke, but 


313 


THE STORY OF ANTONY ORACE. 


so low that the whisper did not reach our ears, and then the 
smile seemed to grow fixed and hard, and a silence that was 
awful in its intensity fell upon that group. 

I did not catch those words, but she told me afterwards what 
they were. 

At last ! Now let me sleep.” 

Fallen when victory was won. 


CHAPTER LXIL 
MISS caeh has another, ofpeb. 

Antony,” said Miss Carr to me one day, ‘‘ you are very youngf 
yet to think of marriage.” 

** But it is not to be yet for quite a year.” 

“ I am glad of it,” she said, laying her hand on mine ; and 
as I took it and held it, looking up with a feeling akin to awe 
in her dark, far-off-looking eyes, I could not help thinking how 
thin it was, and how different to the soft, white hand that used 
to take mine years ago. 

“We both think it will be wiser,” I said, talking to her as 
if she were an elder sister, though of late there had grown 
up in me a feeling that she looked upon me as if I were her son. 

“ Marriage must be a happy state, Antony, when both love, 
and have trust the one in the other.” 

I looked at her, feeling in pain, for I dared not speak, knowing 
that she must be thinking of poor Hallett ; and as I looked I 
could not help noticing how the silver hairs were beginning to 
make their presence known, and how much she had changed. 

“ You think it strange that I should talk like this, do you not ?” 

I could not answer. 

“ Yes, I see you do,” she said, smiling. “Antony, I have had 
another offer of marriage.” 

“ You have 1 ” I exclaimed. “ From whom P Who has asked 
you ?” 

I felt almost indignant at the idea ; and my indignation became 
hot rage as she went on. 

“ John Lister has asked me again to be his wife.” 

“ The scoundrel ! the villain ! ” I exclaimed. 

“ Hush, Antony,” she said quietly, as she laid her thin white 
fingers upon my lips. “ He says that he has bitterly repented the 
past ; that he is a changed man, and he begs me not to blight the 
whole of his life.” 

“You? Blight his life I ” I exclaimed hotly. “He has blighted 
yours.” 


MISS CAEK HAS ANOTHER OFFER. 


317 


She did not speak for a few moments, and then she startled me 
by her words. 

“ He is coming here to-day to ask for my answer from niy lips. 
He begged that I would not write, but that I would see him, and 
let him learn his fate from me.’' 

“ But you surely will not see him ? ” I exclaimed. 

“ I have told him that I wiU. He will be here, Antony, almost 
directly.” 

I was for the moment stunned, and could do nothing but gaze 
helplessly in Miss Carr’s face, for the question kept asking itself, 
“ Will she accept him ? ” and it seemed to me like an insult 
to the dead. 

She returned my gaze with a quiet look, full of mournfulness, 
and as the minutes flew on, I felt a kind of irritation growing 
upon me, and that I should be bitterly hurt if she should be weak 
enough to accept John Lister. 

“ She will consider it a duty, perhaps,” I thought ; “ and that 
she does it to save him, now that he has repented and become 
a better man.” 

My ponderings were brought to an end by the servant bringing 
in a card, and I rose to go, but she laid her hand upon my 
arm. 

Going, Antony P” she said. 

Yes,” I replied angrily, and I pointed to the card. 

** Sit down, Antony,” she said, smiling ; “ I wish you to be 
present.” 

No, no, I would rather not,” I exclaimed. 

** I beg that you will stay, Antony,” she said, in a tone of 
appeal that I could not have disobeyed, and I petulantly threw 
myself back in a chair, as the door opened, and John Lister was 
announced. 

He came forward eagerly, with extended hands, as Miss Carr 
rose, but changed colour and bowed stiffly as he saw me. 

Recovering himself, however, he took Miss Carr’s extended 
hand, raised it to his lips, and then drew back as if waiting 
for me to go. 

“ I felt,” he said, to put an end to our awkward silence, “ that 
you would grant me this private interview, Miriam.” 

He emphasized the word ‘‘private,” and I once more half rose, 
for my position was most painful, and the hot anger and indigna- 
tion in my breast more than I could bear. 

“ Sit still, Antony,” said Miss Carr quietly ; Mr. Lister has 
nothing to say to me that you do not already know.” 

“ But you will grant me a private interview, Miriam,” said 
Lister appealingly. 

“ Mr. Lister,” said Miss Carr, after pointing to a chair, which 
her visitor refused to take, remaining standing, as if resenting my 


318 


THE STOEiT OF ANTONY GEACE. 


presence, “ you wrote and beg-ged me to see you, to let you speak 
instead of writing. I have granted that which you wished.” 

Yes,” he said bitterly, but I did not ask for an interview 
in presence of a third party, and that third person Mr. Antony 
Grace.” 

There was something so petty in his emphasis of the title of 
courtesy Mr., that I once more rose. 

‘‘Miss Carr,” I said, “I am sure it will be more pleasant for all. 
Let me beg of you to excuse me now,” and as I spoke I moved to- 
wards the door. 

“ I wish you to stay,” she said quietly ; and as I resumed 
my seat and angrily took up a book, “ Mr. Lister, Antony Grace 
is my very dear friend and adviser. Will you kindly say what 
you wish in his presence ? ” 

“In his presence?” exclaimed Lister, with the colour coming 
into his cheeks. 

“ In his presence,” replied Miss Carr. 

“Am I to understand, Miriam,” he said imploringly, “that you 
intend to go by Mr. Grace’s advice P ” 

“ No, Mr. Lister; I shall answer you from the promptings of 
my own heart.” 

“ Then for heaven’s sake, Miriam,” he cried passionately, “ be 
reasonable with me. Think of the years of torture, misery, pro- 
bation, and atonement through which I have passed. Come into 
the next room, I implore you, if Mr. Grace has not the good feel- 
ing and gentlemanly tact to go.” 

He began his speech well, but it seemed as if, for the life 
of him, he could not refrain from being petty, and he finished by 
being contemptible in his spite against one whom he evidently 
looked upon as being the cause of his disappointment. 

“ I wish for Antony Grace to stay,” said Miss Carr quietly ; 
“ Mr. Lister, you have resumed your addresses to me, and have 
asked me by letter to forgive you, and let you plead your cause ; 
and more, you tell me that you bitterly repent the past.” 

“ Miriam,” he cried, “ why do you humiliate me before this 
man P ” 

“John Lister,” she continued, “I am but repeating your 
words, and it is no humiliation for one who repents of the wrono- 
and cruelty of his ways to make open confession, either by his 
own lips or by the lips of others. You do repent the ill you did 
to me, and to him who is dead ? ” 

“ Oh yes, yes ! ” he cried passionately ; “ believe me, dear 
Miriam, that I do. But I cannot plead iuy cause now before a 
third party.” 

“ The third party, as you term him, John Lister, has been and 
is to me as a dear brother ; but I grant that it would be cruel to 
expect you to speak as we are. I will, then, be your counsellor.” 


MISS CARR HAS ANOTHER OFFER. 


319 


** No/’ he exclaimed, holding out his hands imploringly, “ you 
are my judge.” 

“ Heaven is your judge,” she said solemnly ; and as she spoke 
I saw a change come over John Lister’s face. It was a mingling 
of awe, disappointment, and anger, for he read his sentence in 
her tones — Heaven is your judge,” she repeated, “ but 1 will 
not keep you in suspense.” 

He joined his hands as he turned his back to me, but I could 
not help seeing his imploring act in the glass. 

John Lister, I have pleaded your cause ever since I received 
your first letter three months ago. You have asked my forgive- 
ness for the past.” 

Yes, yes,” he whispered, gazing at her as if hanging on her 
lips for his life, 

“And I forgive you — sincerely forgive you— as I pray Heaven 
to forgive the trespasses I have committed.” 

“God bless youl” he whispered; “Miriam, you are an angel of 
goodness.” 

“You ask me now to resume our old relations; to receive you 
as of old — in other words, John Lister, to become your wife.” 

“Yes, yes,” he whispered hoarsely, as he bent before her, and 
in his eagerness now, he seemed to forget my presence, for he 
bent down upon one knee and took and kissed the hem of her 
dress. “ Miriam, I have been a coward and a villain to you, but 
I repent — indeed I repent. For years I have been seeking to 
make atonement. Have mercy on me and save me, for it is in 
your power to make me a better man.” 

She stood there, gazing sadly down upon him; and if ever 
woman wore a saint-like expression on this earth, it was Miriam 
Carr as she stood before me then. She, too, seemed to ignore my 
presence, and her voice was very sweet and low as she replied: 

“Take my forgiveness, John Lister, and with it my prayers 
shall be joined to yours that yours may be a better and a happier 
life.” 

“And you will grant my prayer, Miriam? You will be my 
wife ? ” he whispered, as I sat back there with an intense feeling 
of misery, almost jealousy, coming over me. I felt a terrible 
sense of dread, too, for I could not believe in the sincerity of John 
Lister’s repentance, and in imagination T saw the woman whom I 
loved and reverenced torn down from the pedestal whereon she 
stood in my heart, to become ordinary, weak, and poor. 

“You ask me to forget the past and to be your wife, John 
Lister,” she said, and the tones of her sweet low voice thrilled me 
as she spoke, “I have heard you patiently, and I tell you now that 
had you been true to me, I would have been your patient, loving, 
faithful wife unto the end. I would have crushed down the 
strange yearnings that sought to grow within my heart, for I told 


3 ^ 


THE STOEY OF ANTONY GEACE. 


myself that you loved me dearly, and that I would love you in 
return.” 

“Yes, yes,” he whispered, cowering lower before her; “you 
were all that is good and true, and 1 was base; but, Miriam, I 
have repented so bitterly of my sin.” 

“ When I found that you did not love me, John Lister, but that 
it was only a passing fancy fed by the thought of my wealth ” 

“ Oh, no, no, no ! I was not mercenary,” he cried. 

“ Is your repentance no more sincere than that ? ” she said 
sadly ; “ I know but too well, John Lister, that you loved my 
fortune better than you loved me.” 

“ Oh, Miriam I ” he exclaimed appealingly. 

“ Hear my answer I ” she said, speaking as if she had not 
caught his last words. 

“ Yes,” he cried, striving to catch her hand, but without 
success. “It is life or death to me. I cannot live without 
your love.” 

“ Jotin Lister,” she said, and every tone of her sweet pure voice 
seemed to ring through the stillness of that room as I realized 
more and more the treasure lie had cast away. “You are a 
young man yet, and you may live to learn what the love of a 
woman really is. Once given, it is beyond recall. The tender 
plant I would have given, you crushed beneath your heel. That 
love, as it sprang up again, I gave to Stephen Hallett, who holds 
it still.” 

He started from her with a look of awe upon his face, as she 
crossed her hands upon her breast and stood looking upward: 
“ For he is not dead, but sleeping ; and I — I am waiting for the 
time when I may join him, where the weary are at rest.” 

She ceased speaking, and John Lister slowly rose from his 
knee, white with disappointment and rage, for he had anticipated 
an easy conquest. 

He looked at her, as she was standing with her eyes closed, and 
a rapt expression of patient sorrow upon her beautiful face. Then, 
turning to me with a furiously vindictive look upon his face, he 
clenched his fists. 

“This is your doing,” he hissed; “but my day will come, 
Antony Grace, and then we’U see.” 

He rushed from the room, choking with impotent fury, and 
nearly running against Hetty, who was coming in. 

I was frightened, for there was a strange look in Miriam Carr’s 
face, and I caught her liands in mine. 

“ Send for help, Hetty,” I cried excitedly ; “ she is ill.” 

“No, no,” Miss Carr answered, unclosing her eyes; “I often 
»eel like that. Hetty, dear, help me to my room ; I shall be better 
there.” 

1 hastened to hold the door open as Miriam Carr went towards 


MISS CARR HAS ANOTHER OFFER. 


S21 


it, leaning on Hetty’s arm, and as they reached me Miss Carr 
turned, placed her arms round my neck, and kissed me tenderly 
as a mother might her son. Then, as I stood there gazing through 
a veil of tears at which I felt no shame, the words that I had heard 
her utter seemed to weigh me down with a burden of sorrow that 
seemed greater than I could hear. I felt as if a dark cloud was 
coming down upon my life , and that dark cloud came, for 
before a year had passed away, Hetty and I — by her father’s 
dying wish, young wife and young husband — stood together look- 
ing down upon the newly planted flowers close beside poor 
Hallett’s grave. 

It was soft and green, but the flowers and turf looked fresh, 
as the simple white cross looked new with its deeply cut letters, 
d* 'M) but dim to our eyes as we read the two words — 


** Mikiam Oabb.' 


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Aimard’s Indian Tales. 


12mo volumes, paper covers, price 10 cents each. 


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Gustave Aimard was the adopted son of one of the most powerful 
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“ Mekcantile Library, > 

“Baltimore, August 29, 1883. ) 

^ Will you kindly send me two copies of your latest list? I am glad to see that 

? ou flow issue a volume every day. Your Libixry we find greatly preferable to th* 
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“ Social Solutions,” a semi-monthly pamphlet, containing 
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to conceive the Social Palace at Guise, France. There is 
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Published as regular issues of the “Lovell Libraey,” 
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already one of the foremost modern romance writers. — N. K. World. j 

It seems to me that Mr. Haggard has supplied to us in this book the complement 
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Journalist. 

One cannot too much applaud Mr. Haggard for his power in working up to a 
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philosophy is conveyed in pages that glow with fine images and charm the reader 
like the melodious verse of Swinburne. — N. V. Times. 

One of the most peculiar, vivid, and absorbing stories we have read for a long 
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JESS. A Novel. i 2 mo. Paper, 20 cents. 

Mr. Haggard has a genius, not to say a great talent, for story-telling. . . . 

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old, old days of Le Sage and Cervantes. — N.. Y. Mail and Express. 

This bare sketch of the story gives no conception of the beauty of the love- 
passages belw.:en Jess and Niel, or of the many fine touches interpolated by the 
author. — St. Louis Republican. 

Another feast of South African life and marvel for those who revelled in “ She.” — 
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The story has special and novel interest for the spirited reproduction of life, char- 
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Mr. Haggard is remarkable for his fertility of invention. . . . The story, like 

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KING SOEOMON’S MINES. A Novel. i2mo. Paper, 

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Few stories of the season are more exciting than this, for it contains an account 
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■ Tin’s novel has achieved a wonderful popuHrity. It is one of the best selling 

books of the season-, ana it deserves its great success. — Troy Daily Press. 

THE WITCH’S HEAD. A Novel. T 2 mo. Paper, 20 cents. 1 
DAWN. A Novel. i 2 mo. Paper, 20 cents. 

Published by JOHN W. LOTELL COMPANY, New York. 

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Confidence in the Association is needed before it is of any rea? 
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R. D. BLACKMORE’S NOVELS, 


Mr. Blackmore always writes like a scholar and a gentleman.— 
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His descriptions are wonderfully vivid and natural. His pages are 
Iwightened everywhere with great humor; the quaint, dry turns of 
thought remind you occasionally of Fielding . — London Times. 

His tales, all of them, are pre-eminently meritorious. They are 
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fallen snow. . . . Their literary execution is admirable, and their 

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ligencer^ 'N. Y. 

ALICE LOEKAINE. A Tale of the South Downs. 
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CHRISTO WELL. 12mo, Paper, 20 cents. 

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EREjMA ; Or, My Father’s Sin. 12mo, Paper, 20 cents. 
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MARY ANERLEY. A Yorkshire Tale. 12nio, Paper, 20 
cents. 

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THE AIAID OF SKER. 12mo, Paper, 20 cents. 

THE REMARIVABLE HISTORY OF SIR THOMAS 
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LATEST STORY BY M. GEORGE ^dNVILLE FENN, 

Author of " This Man’s Wife,” The Bag of Diamonds,” 

Etc., Etc., 

Whose reputation as a provider of good literature stands deservedly 
high, is the novel entitled 

The Stoey of Antony Grace. 

It describes witti powerful empliasis and striking effect the life of a 
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1 Vol.,12mo, Lovell’s Library, Ho. 1129, - - - price 20 cts. 


IN PRESS— SY THE SAME AUTHOR. 

ONE MAID’S MISCHIEF. 


1 VoL, 12mo, Lovell’s Library, Ho. 1132, - - - price 20 cts. 


Works toy GEO. MAKVIEEE EENN, putolistaed 
ill MKM.AM.Y; 

No, 1001, This Man^s Wife^ , • . ,20 

1060, The Bag of Diamonds, , ,20 

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1132, One 3IaiWs Blischief, , .20 


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a'XTS'Z' 


A House of Tears. 


By E. BOWNEY, 

^ Author of “In One Town,” Etc., Etc. 


—^OPINIONS OF THE PRESS. 

“ Since ‘Called Back’ no more original and exciting story has been published 
than ‘ A House of Tears.’ ^'—Life. 

“The author has invented a monster— a sort of modern form of the Lamia of 
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—Public Opinion. 

“Beyond a ‘ House of Tears ’ the novel of pure sensation can hardly go.” 

—The World. 

“A tale of altogether extraordinary horror.”— T/ie Times. 

“This is one of the most thrilling stories we have read for years ; it is abso- 
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“ There can be no doubt that ‘ A House of Tears ’ is a very extraordinary and 
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‘•Mournfully mysterious is ‘A House of Tears’— truly a story to make one's 
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“ I had to take nips of brandy to keep up my courage while I was reading ‘A 
House of Tears.’” 

“There is no leaving off until it is finished, so absorbing is the thread of the 
narrative.” — England. 

“The Avriter shows much Ingenuity in his strange conception, and consider- 
able skill in the unfolding of the mysteries which beset the morbid Dr. Emanuel.” 

—The Academy. 

“The plot is good, the characters are admirably portrayed, and there are 
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“Well written, original, and sufficiently sensational to satisfy even a reader 
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—The Liverpool Post. 

“This remarkable story. The book is written with undoubted ability, and 
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cinating the attention from the first to last page.”— .Bristol Observer. 

“ A clear, forcible, simple style, and a power of condensed and plausible narra= 
tion are his.’’— lYation (Dublin). 


l¥oL,12mo, Lovell’s Library, Ho, 1126, - - - price 20 cts. 


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